I am one of those terrible women who try on their regular jeans far too early after having a baby. It’s just bad news bears, people. And I know it. So this time, I told a friend that I wasn’t allowed to try them until I had my 6 week follow up appointment and got weighed.
Since I had an uncomplicated delivery, my follow up was with my GP, who, if you have heard me talk about before, is a fabulous doctor but clueless about all things obstetrics. I texted a friend from her office in shock “what?!?! A 6 week follow up and I got to keep my pants on?!??”
And that’s when I realized that she never weighed me either. And it was a couple days until I was finally at my parents and had access to a scale.
I stepped on trepidatiously and was pleasantly surprised with the number. I was feeling pretty smug about going home and trying on those jeans until moments later when I walked out to pick up my daughter and the waistband of my tights rolled down, finally losing its battle with the postpartum squish that is my belly.
Don’t get me wrong: the shame I felt was not related to the jiggly bits. I know I’m just weeks out and it was a long 9 months of huge body changes. It’s not going back overnight. No, that shame you are sensing is at myself for subconsciously believing that the number on the scale had anything to do with how my jeans would fit.
I’m at an awkward phase that I don’t remember being at the first time around where my maternity clothes are too big, my regular jeans are too small and the inbetween stuff? Its both too big and too small all at once. And so I will live in tights (that occasionally roll down but at least stretch to fit my ever-changing body), pretend my tops are all long enough and keep away from my parents’ scale for another few months.
And those jeans? They’ll stay safe from the spit up and blow out stains for another 6 weeks or so until I have my next moment of insanity.