I love my husband.
I love my kids.
I love my family.
& I love babies.
But, for the first time in my life....
I had just started to love ME.
I had committed to eating clean, and to exercising.
Something I had never been able to do.
Not in 27 years of my life.
I had tried and failed.
Tried and failed.
Never being able to make any progress.
And after Nola was born, it didn't get easier.
My body was shaped differently, and nothing went back to where it belonged.
I struggled for three years, being bigger than I'd ever been, and fighting the mirror and the scale.
So when I lost 30lbs, it was no small feat. It was a Big. Damn. Deal.
It was nothing to scoff at when I wore a pencil skirt and magenta pumps to work.
When I started running, I felt like a whole person again.
I have struggled with finding an identity as a human for a while.
I always have my Wife or Mama hat on.
I love both roles.... but I forgot who Nichole was.
Somewhere running on the pavement in my Brooks.... I remembered who I was.
During those 2 or 3 hours a week, I found myself again.
And, I started to enjoy who I was!
I was HAPPY to just be ME.
I made a decision to get fit, and change my life.
I equated a large part of my future with all the positive changes that my body would experience,
and the journey I had started to get there.
Then.
The shock of my life.
#4.
I know many of you mean well with your comments about fitness.
When you say, "you can still be healthy, and pregnant. I think!"
Or "You have plenty of time to lose weight after..."
Or "How many pregnancies to your goal weight?"
Or "Well, if you keep throwing up from morning sickness....you won't need to diet."
It isn't funny.
It's so painful.
I don't know if any of you have struggled with weight or body image.
It is an awful battle.
And I finally thought I'd won.
I love my husband.
I love my kids.
I love my family.
& I love babies.
And I was devastated when that second line popped up on the Clear Blue screen.
I mourned the loss of myself that day.
For four days I cried uncontrollably.
Not because I'm terrified about affording four children.
(I am)
Not because we thought we were done with newborns.
(We did)
Not because I just got rid of the very last pieces of 'baby and maternity' items and have to start over.
(I do)
But, because I just found myself.
(JUST!)
I feel like I need to say goodbye again.
Once more I will be cloaked in spit up.
I will spend days not showering, and wearing sweats.
Again I will live in a land of diapers.
I will be knee deep in postpartum depression.
I will feel the pain of having to leave and return to work and all the emotional anguish and guilt that comes with that necessity.
It took so much longer than I expected to recover me.
Took so much longer to WANT to go on dates.
Took so much longer for me to feel like a woman, and not a human milk machine and walking stretch mark.
To be a woman again.
I love my husband.
I love my kids.
I love my family.
& I love babies.
I will love this new child inside of me.
I will dote on him/her and cherish being able to tend to an infant one last (unexpected) time.
I anxiously await first steps and first words.
I miss the sound of coo-ing in my home.
I miss seeing an infant asleep on Sean's chest.
But, please.
For now.
Please understand that I have mixed emotions.
I am happy, but I am struggling.
I don't need jokes.
I don't need you to tell me it will be okay.
I know it will be.
