Can I please have this body back?

What? It’s Wednesday again? Where has the week gone? I blame my virtual absence on the great weather and the fact that I got more confident in taking little L out. We had a blast attending coffee mornings, picnics and going for walks. Almost bursting with pride, I paraded my beautiful social butterfly in her pram, dressed to the nines in Petit Bateau (little L, not me), making the most of the sunny days. Well, almost.

The drama unfolded when Big M got my summer clothes down from the loft. In great anticipation, I threw on some of my favourite little summery dresses, and they are all, without exception, too small. My enlarged bust makes me look like a Bavarian beer waitress (the ones that can balance a stein on their cleavage); and some of the dresses I wasn’t even able to close. Trying on trousers has been wisely avoided. I know that they will give me a muffin top – no actual proof needed, thanks!

 Still refusing to buy new clothes, I was looking at other options to make me feel better immediately. The plan to have more sleep and less sugary snacks only worked out partly so far. Yes, I am sleeping more. And no, I am not eating less chocolate. Eating less in general sounds like a very depressing prospect. I admire those who eat light in summer. A little salad here, a handful of berries there, and happy they are. Add a steak, some fries and ice cream, and the summer diet does the trick for me, too. Hence, I resort to exercise.

With a newborn, joining a gym is a bit pointless. Who would watch little L when mummy hits the treadmill? And also, having had a caesarean, my favourite kind of workout is taboo. I would need some expert advice to avoid hurting myself. A look at my savings account brought some hope into this dilemma. I had nearly spent no money on clothes since finding out that I was pregnant. And I wasn’t going to any time soon either. Investing in a personal trainer seemed to be money well spent.

I might be a bit obsessive with my weight or the level of my fitness, but next to the woman I met I look like a chubby choirboy. She insisted on sending me on an elimination diet that included cutting out bread, sugar, alcohol and all other ‘nasties’. I am breastfeeding an eight weeks old baby. Sleep deprivation gives me a constant headache. I don’t need migraine like pains to make me feel worse; neither do I want to starve myself. What was she thinking? And why would anyone want to spend money on this torture? I have to come up with a different plan.

Now for the weigh-in:

Last week: 134 pounds

This week: 135 pounds

Pounds gained: 1

How many pounds left to lose: 10