Nine Months On, Nine Months Off, My A**!
Submitted by Deva Dalporto
Before I had my baby, I assumed I'd leave the hospital in pearls and a size-four black dress, à la Jackie O. No one told me I'd be sporting my maternity garb for weeks—OK, months. Now I know that any mom who claims to have left labor and delivery in her skinny jeans is either lying or wore a size XXL to begin with.
Still, I rolled with it (no pun intended) because I knew I'd be fit and trim again in no time. I set a goal to be "back" for my best friend's wedding in October—six months postpartum.
Well, fall came, the leaves changed from green to red and I still looked five months pregnant. I dropped in at my alma mater's Fall Fair and Mr. Henderson, my old bio teacher, came up to congratulate me on the baby. "One here and one on the way, I see!" he said. I was mortified. And, of course, the guy I'd had a crush on all through high school was standing within earshot. "Nope," I managed. "Just the one. I'm still fat from having her." That shut him up.
Thanksgiving arrived and I hadn't lost hope. "I'll look great for New Year's!" I kept telling myself as I stuffed pumpkin pie down my throat. They say, "Nine months on, nine months off," right?
When the nine months were up, I decided to give it a year.
Well, my daughter just turned 1 and I am still fat. I guess this is just the new me. Droopy boobs, bags the size of fists under my eyes and absolutely no desire to ever have sex again. This is the new and (un)improved Deva—Mommy-style.
But I'm not one to wallow. So rather than mope around in Juicy bottoms waiting for those last 15 pounds to melt away, I have decided to take action! Heck no, I didn't join a gym. I went to Neiman Marcus last Thursday and dropped a couple hundred bucks on clothes. I figure if I'm going to be fat, I might as well be fat and fabulous!
Submit!
