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On Friday, I fully intended to wear a very pretty red velvet dress to our office Christmas party. I got it months ago (very off-season) brand new for $3.50 at Lane Bryant. For a brand new, beautiful dress, I couldn’t pass it up! I thought I’d be able to wear it at Christmas this year.
And I could. Except, even in Spanx Assets, I looked exactly the same as I did at 19 weeks pregnant with Libbie.
I thought maybe it was just me. I’m ultra-self-conscious.
Then at church on Sunday, one of my 4-year-olds asked me if I was having another baby. And I wasn’t even wearing an empire-waist dress.
(I didn’t wear the dress to the party. I could not bear if it one of my coworkers had asked if I were pregnant.)
I don’t say this to ask for sympathy or advice, really. I’ve just kind of reached that point. I suppose the toll of this fall has been taken; I’ve not been held accountable for my eating habits at all. I’ve been walking regularly at work for some weeks, but it’s not a huge amount of exercise. (It is SOMETHING, of which I am proud.)
In the middle of Christmas season is not the best time to come to the realization that I really shouldn’t even try to get pregnant again until I lose the rest of Libbie’s baby weight (and then some…). But a little extra awareness, a little extra exercise, and some healthful dinners should help me keep it in check until the new year.
Just keepin’ it real, folks. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t share this part of my life. Thanks for taking me as I am.