baby the great

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It’s September

Happy September to you! 

I love all the seasons, but the end of summer and start of fall is probably my favorite. Although Amsterdam has been a complete bust and prepared me for colder temps for the past 3 weeks, I’m still pretending none of that happened so I can be excited for this special time. 

I’m in a fun phase with Seiji at the moment. He says a handful of words on the lowest volume humanly traceable, except for “mama”, which he exclaims with ease and confidence. He’s started to tell me when he does and doesn’t want things. For instance, we were just listening to Hendrix and he stands in front of the TV and passes me the Apple remote to turn on the TV instead. 

"You don’t want to listen to Hendrix?"


Ha ha. It cracks me up now that he knows what he wants when he wants it. This yes/no dialogue is the cutest. Children never make you bored, that’s for sure. 

a mother’s shape

I’ve never really spoken in depth about my body after giving birth. About a day or two after having my son there were no physical signs that I held a human inside of me for 39 weeks. That he grew and moved all my organs out of the way and I watched as my skin expanded to accommodate this huge tiny life. I couldn’t find a stretch mark. I couldn’t see anything. 

That left me with a bag of mixed feelings. I’ve never been prouder of myself for what I was able to accomplish and at the same time, I had no evidence. As far as I was concerned, it was like he was given to me and I didn’t go through the ring of fire to bring him here. I knew I belonged to the tribe, but I didn’t get my mark. I had nothing. 

Now that might sound ridiculous to most, but it made me feel fraudulent  for a while. I lost all the weight I’d gained during pregnancy plus 10 pounds, essentially putting me back to my move-to-Amsterdam, wedding weight. I wasn’t thrilled when I initially gained those 10 pounds because it was definitely fat and not muscle and it happened rapidly. I never gain weight quickly. Well, not before then. I’ll blame it on a honeymoon (fries-induced) phase. 

A year out, I’ve lost even more weight. Breastfeeding is really kicking my ass. I was looking at myself in the mirror and I just felt rail thin. I am not used to seeing my ribs at all and I shook my arms and they weren’t firm. I know I don’t exercise so no surprise that I’m not in great shape, but I walk everywhere and carry him around ALL THE TIME. I definitely don’t expect my body to blow in the wind. 

I am sensitive about my weight because it’s not easy for me to gain so when I got on a scale and saw I lost another 7 pounds, my mind flashed on all the times I’ve thought I look malaise. Seven pounds might sound small, but it translates to 4 inches off my waist. When I moved here I needed all new jeans because everything was too tight. I’ve been wearing those since and now everything can literally slid down while zipped and buttoned. 

I started freaking out about it one weekend a few months ago, but I’ve calmed down since. I embraced my body as is in New York. I started to regain some of this weight. My body is strong and capable of plenty. I’ve seen it do some amazing things so with patience I can have that and more. 

I’ve also struggled with my water intake so most of the time I’m dehydrated. That’s not been very helpful for my skin or my insides. I get headaches and forget that I haven’t had a thing to drink for hours. I’ve been working on that as well and feel some improvement but I notice the second I relapse I’m dying of thirst and get extremely irritable and instantly fatigued. Water is so important to us as humans. I’ve always loved water and I’m just waiting for my brain to switch on again and crave it. 

I honestly felt betrayed by my body. On one hand, I was in extreme physical pain for months.  On the other, I had nothing to show on the outside. A year and a half later, it’s very sobering to think about how hard I was on myself. I still am, in different ways. It didn’t help that I had bouts of hopelessness those first few weeks when it came to breastfeeding. If anything motherhood is showing me, it’s how much I need to learn to be softer to myself. I change in some ways, while remaining the same in others. 

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