Strong As A Mother

I am hesitant to use this photo along with this post, but I decided to go with my gut and post it anyways.

In this photo you will see me showing my stomach. This is the first time doing so since having Micah. While I was pregnant with Micah, we did weekly “belly photos” with me and a fruit/vegetable that represented the size of Micah growing in the womb. I loved doing these photos and I enjoyed sharing them. I had countless people come up to me and say they looked forward to my weekly progress photo as it was amazing to watch me grow a baby through the lens of the camera.

But after delivering Micah the last thing I wanted to do was show off my stomach. There are many women who publicly show and document their bodies after delivering a baby (or babies).

I commend these women for doing so, but I, unfortunately, was not one of them.

After having Micah I hit a low emotionally. I was the heaviest I have been, EVER. I felt accomplished for growing and birthing a life, but I felt empty as the body that once held this life form was hallow – physically and emotionally.

I felt as though I was in someone else’s body as this body didn’t feel like my own.

I struggled emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually. I did not feel like myself at times.

It took me four months to find the wherewithal to exercise regularly again. I did some light yoga sessions at home, but I didn’t physically exercise and sweat until I was four months postpartum.

I was nursing during this entire season of life which was an amazing experience, but one that also added a great deal of stress and anxiety to my plate. I would tell myself internally, “if you workout, your supply might drop” so I stayed away from exercising.

I had countless conversations with my husband as to what I should do. He would always gently encourage me to do what is best for me and at four months postpartum, I finally decided, “I am going to workout again.”

So I found a gym that offered child care as part of a membership – our local YMCA. I am blessed to be a stay at home mama, but I knew I would need some assistance watching my little human while I worked out.

The first time I arrived at the YMCA to exercise, I was flooded with anxiety and guilt. I was greeted with smiling faces and a beautiful group of women who talked me through my first drop off experience. The child watch room was filled with kids, and here I was dropping off my four month old son to be watched while I worked out.

The moment I handed Micah over, he started crying. It was an unfamiliar environment with unfamiliar faces and he was fully aware he was separate from me.

The woman who held Micah saw tears begin to swell in my eyes and she simply stated, “He is in good hands and he will be just fine. We will care for him while you care for yourself.”

She so elegantly spoke right to my heart.

She was right. I needed some time for me. I needed some time to take off the “Mama” hat and just focus on working out. I needed some mindless time to focus on myself, without guilt.

As I walked away from the child care room, I tried to turn my focus to me and the task of working out.

But I found myself asking: “who am I without my baby?”

Motherhood is a once in a lifetime blessing.

It’s a role that has to be experienced first hand to truly know all of its glory.

I then felt my heart telling me that I needed to do this for me.

I needed a little time away to refill my metaphorical cup so that I could return feeling recharged and rejuvenated.

My first workout wasn’t pretty, strong, or noteworthy.

I felt all types of feelings as I moved, but I did it anyway.

I finished my first post baby workout and walked back to pick up my son. As I entered the room I was greeted with an ear to ear, gummy, smile on Micah’s face. He was so happy to see me and in that moment I felt that everything was going to be okay; I was going to be okay.

Since that day, I have been working out and exercising every single day during the week.

Yes, I have days I miss a workout. I have Multiple Sclerosis and experience off days. I have days where I don’t feel like working out, but I do it anyways. I push myself physically and mentally because I know I am bettering myself because of it.

I remind myself daily, “It is a blessing to be able to move and breathe.“

This sparks my drive and keeps me working toward a healthy life.

It’s not a number on the scale or posting inspiring photos like this one that keep me motivated.

What keeps me motivated is my health and wellness.

Movement is not something to take for granted as our ability to do so could be taken away at any moment.

We need to do it for ourselves (and others) to move, breathe, and better ourselves.

My motivation to remain healthy is my “why”.

It is why I do what I do every single day.

Remaining healthy takes work, sacrifice, and positive intention (inside the gym and definitely inside the kitchen).

Staying healthy and happy is not just for me.

It’s for my husband and son, my parents, parent-in-laws, brother, sibling-in-laws, grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles, nephew, and the entire world beyond.

Everyone needs me healthy because if I can heal and better myself, I can heal and better the world.

So all of this, everything I do, and everything I am, is for God and you!

TANCKS for reading!