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Why I Quit Fitness Instagram

.. or... better yet.. How I Regained my Sanity.

When you think fitness, motherhood doesn't come to mind.

from GetBodiedbyJ Instagram
I had my daughter almost 2 years ago (On another note.. I cannot believe she is about to be 2. That is wild to me...). And I am still shaped like a kangaroo in this bitch! You see the lady I posted above? That was her 8 weeks after having her guts rearranged with a damn C-section. Yet and still...  I am still looking like a flabbier version of her 3 days post- C Section photo. I am not a bad bitch. I am not a MILF. I am just a mom trying to make it.

Once I had the baby girl, I was plagued with several health issues. I had super high blood pressure. As a person who loved to eat yet watched what I ate, this was a shock to me. I was overweight when I had her but I wasn't morbidly obese by any means. Before pregnancy, I went to the gym 3 or 4 times a week. I tried walking as often as I could. I increased my water. None of that helped.

During pregnancy, I could hardly eat anything. I had acid reflux that was terrible. I couldn't take my normal meds so I was just relegated to Tums and carbonated soda. I didn't pick up much weight because I had her pre-term. I might have gained a total of 15 lbs. I didn't get to have the full, round belly. Folks could hardly tell I was pregnant at all. I just looked like a fat girl in looser clothes. I expected to look fuller.. but not "deflated".p

With the onset of postpartum depression, my body was also betraying me too. My once full bosom was gone, replaced by flat, saggy balloons. My stomach had this pouch that wouldn't go away, no matter how much I wore a girdle or bound my stomach. My hair started falling out. My thighs had more cellulite in them. My skin was jacked up.  I had to get a handle on things. So I started to peruse Instagram for help and inspiration

.. then it just goes out of control. 

I obsessively would visit the IG accounts of moms who had kids... esp other women of color... and compare myself to them. Like several times a day. I was working out. I was eating right. Why was my body not changing? What the fuck was I doing wrong? Where were my abs? Where were my glutes? I cried. I begged. I didn't understand at all.  I didn't and wasn't going to starve myself. I had little if any energy to do more than I could with workouts. I was running after a 1-year-old. Then, she started daycare. My schedule got even more hectic to where I couldn't even go to the gym in the mornings. Folks (obviously w/o kids) were like "Just get up at 4:30 and do something". Was sleep or the gym more important?  But getting up at 4:30 meant my days would be more than 12 hours long....

But I wanted to look like the chicks on IG. So I tried it. It lasted all of 1 week.  Finally, on the last day I wanted to try it, I woke up to my husband, looked at him and instead snuggled next to him. I would rather stay in bed with my fluff. Safe. Loved and appreciated for who I was. A few hours later, my daughter woke upand I was reminded that she is the reason that my body is this way. I produced a miracle. I should be proud of my body. I picked her up, carried her to our bed, where we continued to snuggle.....

So what's priority for me right now??? My sanity. My loves. My health. And just doing what I can when I can....

But.....Right now, I'll take my chances on catching up on sleep.


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