O….M….G…!! Do not, DO NOT stand in front of a three way mirror in your underwear when you are 34 weeks. Holy hell. I’m a fucking cow. Not only am I huge, but the amount of cellulite on my ass is appalling. How long has it looked like this?! I have not exposed myself to such a view since probably the very early 1st trimester. How could I let myself get like this?? I have to admit. I’ve let myself go these last few weeks. The Girl Scout cookies, the ice cream, no trips to the gym. Ugh. I asked for it. In the last two weeks I’ve gone from the “cute” pregnant girl with just a bump to a full blown house, complete with chubby cheeks, flabby arms and jiggly thighs.
Granted, I’ve always known the lighting in Target’s changing rooms is frightening, but I think it was the wakeup call I’ve needed. I have got to stop this train! My innocent trip to try on nursing bras and other postpartum necessities has left me suddenly very aware of how my thighs are now rubbing together and the roll of fat that has appeared under my increasingly tighter bra strap.
I KNOW I’m supposed to be big, okay. I’m not saying I’m going to starve myself and the baby for the next 6 weeks, but I can’t keep this mentality that I can eat whatever I want and that it will all magically melt off with the help of breastfeeding when he comes out. No. My husband keeps reassuring me that I can work it off and hit the gym, but I’m not believing in some fairytale that allows me to find time for the gym with a newborn and a three year old to take care of. Hell, it was hard enough to get there when all I had to worry about was me.
A couple weeks ago I was feeling pretty confident in my pregnant body. I had maternity photos taken and felt really good. I need to get that feeling back. I need to get this cottage cheese off of my ass.
34 weeks 3 days