I’d read about the side effects of weaning, some of them good (libido!) and some of them bad (plugged ducts! mood swings!) but the big one that has reared it’s ugly head is “massive downward spiral into bodyshame.”

I’ve written before, that pregnancy and nursing was the first time I felt really, really good about my body. It was the first time I did something RIGHT, I never once embarrassed myself with the wrong moves, I didn’t get stuck on the side of some hill, I didn’t go over the handlebars of gestation into a ditch. It was really amazing to feel confident in the way my body functioned, and hell, even the way it looked — I loved my pregnant body, more than any other version of my body to date. (Not counting looking back at old pics and thinking “wait, I wasn’t fat then! Why did I think I was?”)

I wrote about the Y last week, and this weekend was really great, except for two thoughts that kept running through my head, especially after seeing pictues from Saturday, which were a) “Oh god, I cannot end up as b-roll for “America’s Obesity Epidemic!” and b) “I bet people are looking at us and wondering ‘why is HE with THAT fat fuck?'” To the point that, yeah, by Sunday night, there were tears. Luckily, I married a good, good, man, and he is very reassuring and supportive and all of that (and even kind of flattered at B, which might be some sort of twisted libido thing, in that my husband suddenly looks extra yummy with his beard and band t-shirt and the baby on his back….) but still, an unhappy end to a great weekend.

And the anxiety about the Y this time is totally new — my big thing has always been not wanting to look like a fool in front of Real Exercisers, or feeling fat, or whatever, but now — fuck, I’ve nursed all over this town, with no embarrassment — even, gasp, pride! — so I’m kind of over that — but the big anxiety is measuring out my time away from Ingrid. I hate that time is so fleeting, so limited, but I also know that if I don’t improve my fitness, I’ll not be there later on, either. And Dave made some really, really good points, in that I get her for an ‘extra’ hour each day by picking her up at 4, when he gets home at 5:15, so with going 2-3x a week after work, I’d still see her more than he does. He’s totally a coparent, too, and doing dinner and baths and all of that doesn’t at all rattle him, he even looks forward to it. So, that’s covered. As it stands now, I’m going to sign up for the weight class, and I think the yoga/pilates thing, and try to do two weeknights, and one weekend class, while Dave and Ingrid do toddler swim class.

The other thing, too, is that I’m still learning that I’m not at a teaching job, where I’m ON for my entire workday. To that end, I brought in some sneakers, and want to ‘walk the circle’ — the main road around campus is a perfect circle, one mile long — 3x a week. I did it today, and it felt good to be DOING something, on time that isn’t being taken away from Ingrid, or Dave, or whatever. And, if increasing my fitness level leads to all kinds of good things like better sleep and more energy, maybe I could even transition at some point to taking early am classes, before work, that wouldn’t take away from Ingrid nearly as much. We’ll see.

Either way, I’m feeling good about stuff, mostly, and hoping that that rolls over into regaining some sense of not-shame when it comes to my own body.