I’m pretty stubborn – I rarely back down for the sake of saving face. When I’m wrong, which is rare – by the way, I will admit it…well, maybe. This past weekend I had a moment of realization. I was about one mile into a hilly 5K when I discovered that I was nine months pregnant. My legs couldn’t carry me at that speed anymore so I had to cut the pace back to a brisk walk.
There was something to prove, to myself, these past nine months. I did not want to fall into the gluttony of my last pregnancy. I wanted to maintain a decent level of activity to keep my weight down, keep the baby healthy and give me the opportunity to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight sooner than later. I worked so hard to lose sixty pounds; I didn’t want to go through that process again. There were some unmentioned people that were looking forward to me gaining weight. This wasn’t an assumption – THEY TOLD ME.
At first I felt defeated when I started to walk, but I continued to pump my arms and move my legs. I decided to chill out. The weather was gorgeous and Marcus was by my side pushing Ava. I took a deep breath, followed by a slow release which relaxed my shoulders. Yeah, this was good. This WAS okay. I have been on an amazing journey and I needed to just enjoy.
Ava had her own moment of realization. She did notice that I wasn’t running and called me on it. I wasn’t upset; I actually laughed. Towards the end of the race, we were close to pulling up the rear. I didn’t want to be the last person crossing the finish line, so I picked up the pace to a jog. Ava, in her inquisitive tone, asked me where the rest of the people were. I let out a much needed laugh as I told her that the other people were faster. “Why?” Because Mommy is slower. “Why?” Because of Baby Cookie. “Why?” I just let that last one go. As I did everything else.