The first thing I’m really trying to focus on is just refocusing my idea of eating. When I got pregnant this time around, I really stopped paying attention to all of that. I’m sure that part of it was knowing that this would be my last pregnancy – the last time anyone would actually ask ms to gain weight. But more than that are all I’d the enablers on the world; those people ego are well-meaning when they say, “But you’re pregnant. You can have a piece of pie.” Under no circumstance should you think that I’m blaming anyone but myself; I was practically praying for someone to give me the pregnant excuse to have that bagel/donut/milkshake/second helping. In any case, it would have been fine every once in a while, but it was practically daily. And I could have chosen when to take advantage of it and when to say no, but I never said no.
Fast forward to today, and I’m god-knows-how-much heavier, and I’m having trouble reminding myself that there’s no need for dessert every night, and that I don’t need that second helping of lasagna. Breastfeeding means that I actually need to eat an additional 500.calories per day, but I need to make them count. Those calories are being used to make milk for my daughter; a king-size snickers bar is not what the doctor meant.
So, I’m relearning. I’m poking around for that oatmeal recipe that I used to love. I’m cracking open cookbooks for new recipes that encourage healthy eating. I’m trying to look at the plate that I serve to my son (which us always healthier than what I serve myself), and I’m mirroring it on my plate.
It’s going to take me a bit to overhaul the “eat whatever I want” mentality, but I’m getting there meal by meal.