So I’m back to the workout grind. I was perfectly happy being fat for a few more months until I got a card in the mail from my little brother’s fiancee asking me to be in their wedding, which thrilled and horrified me at the same time. I can wear a sarong at the pool all summer, but would probably look suspect walking down the aisle that way.
I have reluctantly started back to the gym. My feelings about exercising when breastfeeding are about the same as they are when pregnant: It’s pointless. When I’m pregnant I’m going to gain weight no matter what. When nursing my body fights to hold on to my body fat like I’m going to be hibernating. For example…my sister has lost 9 pounds in 2 weeks on weight watchers, I on the other hand have gained a pound and a half going to the gym for a week.
Please save the muscle weighs more than fat tirade for someone else. When I exercise while breastfeeding I am RAVENOUS and will eat anything in sight. I end up consuming more calories than I burn. Maybe I can convince Anna that ALL of the bridesmaids should be in sarongs…
