Dirty Hippie

I had visions of being a carefree glam-hippie mom, clad in boho skirts, big sun glasses, with a happy, naked baby in tow, whisking about braless in the warm glow of the California sun.

It has not quite worked out that way.

I wake up every morning harried and confused, wishing I had 4 hands instead of 2, a kangaroo pouch – or alternatively, and more realistically, some kind of mom utility belt to avoid three trips up and down the stairs to transport this mish mash of stuff – bottles, glasses, phone, baby, receiving blankets, ice packs, and pump accessories.

I have not worn any boho skirts in a couple of weeks, though I own many, because it has been an extremely hot October, and my body is doing something weird post-pregnancy, possibly because of breastfeeding. I used to be cold constantly; I was the person who turned her space heater on in the middle of July once the air conditioning started running in the office. People would start sweating when they entered my office; my boss regularly referred to my work space as a sauna.

Now, I am constantly hot: I sweat in my sleep the first two weeks after Little V was born. I first noticed it in the hospital, and it rather took me by surprise, especially since there is always a nice flow of air conditioning in the hospital. Literally, this night sweating thing has never happened to me unless it was over 90 degrees or I was seriously ill. However, even after that horribleness has ceased, I continue to run hot. Last weekend, I actually sweat a little bit walking around in 80 degree weather. I’m Asian. I don’t usually sweat noticeably unless it’s 90 degrees or I’m exercising, and this new phenomenon irritates me to no end. I pray it is not permanent.

I don’t tow her anywhere for long as of yet, because she is a fatty little baby, gaining a bit more than the normal 1 ounce a day, and while I have decent arm and upper body strength, I get uncomfortable after holding her for just five minutes. I also have not mastered use of the ring sling, so that baby-wearing thing isn’t working out for me yet. As soon as the doctor clears me, I’ve got to get back on those pushups and ab roller exercises.

As for going braless, I’ve got that part down, but not quite in the way I imagined. I got sick of fussing around with clasps, pads, and straps. I also read that milk stains can be hard to get out, and I don’t want to ruin any of my nice clothes. I have thus resorted to wearing shitty ass tank tops I bought from Walmart for $4, without a bra. If I drip milk, so be it, as long as it’s not getting on furniture or the floor.  If I end up with some amount of milk on me after the 8-10 feeding sessions a day anyway, so what’s the point? No one is going to shower or rinse 8-10 times a day.

I’ve also got the naked baby part down, even though people think it’s weird. As I write this, I’m about to take her to Daddy’s soccer game wearing only a diaper. It will get cold, but she has a really nice hot pink fleece blanket. In this stage of our lives, neither of us like clothes, and I am convinced clothing on babies in warm weather is more for other people than it is for the baby.

To my credit, I have not entirely abandoned my boundaries, and begrudgingly put on a bra when going out to meet with people, or attend doctor’s appointments. I also have not degenerated to the point where I neglect showers, although that would be quite in line with the hippie theme. Do I get a gold star for this?

Exercise

I was largely able to stick to my regular exercise routine during the first trimester. Of course, exercises that were routine before suddenly became monumentally harder, but nevertheless, I was mostly physically capable of doing the same things, including sprinting up hills, steep hikes, the ab roller, push-ups, planks, leg lifts, stairs, lunges, squats, triceps dips, etc.

Come second trimester, things have started to change. When doing leg lifts one day, I noticed my abdominal muscles came to a cone-like point, which according to Google, means my abdominal muscles are separating, a known occurrence in pregnancy called diastasis recti. The general consensus is that exercises requiring direct pressure in the abdominal muscles should be avoided if this occurs during pregnancy. To my surprise that eliminated a lot more exercises than I expected. Obviously, leg lifts, planks, and ab roller were out, but I noticed my abs would also do the weird cone-like point thing during push-ups, pull-ups, and mountain climbers. Fuck.

So right now, it’s a lot of sprinting, squats, and lunges, but it’s getting pretty boring. In addition, my knees have started to creak a little from all these squats and lunges, so they could use a little break. I also noticed that if I go even on a short jog, I have to make sure to totally empty my bladder before. Even if I do not feel like I have to pee at all before jogging, the bouncing up and down causes me to feel like I have to pee while I’m in the middle of a jog.

I took my first prenatal yoga class last week and rather enjoyed it. It’s just what I need because I am pretty much the least flexible female ever. It’s sort of a big deal for me to touch my toes and my flexibility is comparable to that of a man, for sure. The instructor (who is awesome) handed everyone a card with an encouraging phrase, and mine was “Let Go.” This, along with the 5 minutes of total silence and relaxation in darkness was quite fitting for me because I’m completely horrible at sitting still and slowing my thoughts. That being said, it was not exactly a vigorous workout, so I continued to search for options.

I browsed Craigslist and found a pair of adjustable dumbbells for $20. The plates ranged between 2.5-10 pounds. Perfect for arm workouts! So husband agreed to pick them up on the way home from work and I said, “Heh, time to get swole!”