So I logged onto Facebook this morning like any good worker bee, skirting her responsibilities and taking a mental break.
Guess what I found? A friend posted a bunch of pictures from college during our Junior and Senior Years. You know, when I was young, skinny, tan and hot.
Let me bring you up to speed if you don't know my currently state. 9 months pregnant, white and blubbery.
As it, not hot. Not even cute really, just not.
Don't get me wrong. I love, love, love being pregnant. I love feeling my son squirm around inside me and I love knowing that I've treated my body well while pregnant.
In total, I've gain 28 pounds so far this pregnancy. While I have indulged in ice cream and the occasional baked good, I have also eaten plenty of fresh fruit, veggies and lean protein. Baby Boy gets at least a gallon of water every day and while we don't exercise like we should, we are certainly active.
As that damn little voice in the back of my mind tries and tries to break me down and make me feel bad about myself, I resist. I know that I am doing what I can to keep us healthy and safe and responsible.
In return my body has done well too. I have yet to get a single stretch mark. Most of my weight seems to be concentrated to my belly and my thighs. I haven't had a lot of heartburn, stomach issues or indigestion. My skin still breaks out like it always did and my energy has yet to deplete.
I know I'm in a good place.
But lord have mercy, I am so ready to get back to weight watchers and working out. It isn't even funny. I miss holding myself accountable, researching new recipes and watching the progress on the scale. I miss holding my breathe an anticipation of a lower number.
Instead, I stare at the scale and wonder exactly how high is that thing going to go? It's bad, bad, bad!
I should just step away from the social media.
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