Postpartum weight-loss is the topic of many conversations in the adult world. “How much did you gain?” “How much do you want to lose?” “Do you just totally hate yourself now or what??” The minute your baby pops out of your vagina everyone will start asking you questions about your weight. So you’re already feeling the pressure to be back to your pre-baby weight before your tiny little infants umbilical cord even falls off. After I had my first child I was hit the ground running and wanted to drop the weight as fast as possible. I walked daily and watched everything I ate. But still the pounds weren’t falling off fast enough, so I began eating as little as humanly possible, and guess what?The pounds started to fall off. By the time I was 7 months PP I was down to an even smaller weight than I had been before I had gotten pregnant. I finally felt I could once again be okay with myself and start to live again. Fast forward a year and I had finally found myself in a happy relationship, and we all know how the pounds can pile on when we’re happy. It wasn’t all at once but over the next two years I had put on about 10 pounds(which for someone at 5.3″ it’s noticeable). When I finally got pregnant with my second child I was pushing about 15 pounds heavier, but once my pregnancy was in full swing my mind was less on my weight and more on the tiny human that was going inside of me weight. I was planning on breastfeeding, so I was hoping that would help shed my few extra pounds. But man was I in for a rude awakening. Must to my dismay breastfeeding for me meant needing to CONSTANTLY be eating, lucky I didn’t gain for than I did, but I sure didn’t lose more… About 4 months PP and the weight started to feel more heavy and my clothes tighter than before. The extra weight I was packing was just becoming to much for me to deal with. I didn’t at all feel like myself. A lot of woman would be thrilled to be my weight I’m sure, but I’ve always been thinner and assume people are use to seeing me that way. I was still trying to lose the weight with exercise, supplements and trying to watch what I was eating, but to no avail. I let weight drag me down and lead myself to believe I was failing, until one day. I took a good hard to at myself in the mirror(it was a rough first take), I took in the extra weight, wider hips, extra skin, cellulite and scars. Then I took a deep breath and let go of all the hate I had made myself feel. I can still love myself and be happy with my body. I can still dress the way I want to, I can still eat what I want to(within reason of course). I don’t have to hide myself under a rock and scour away if I feel someone looking in my direction. I this is me. Thicker or thinner, skinny or heavier, scared or not. My weight shouldn’t change how I feel as a person, a wife or a mother. I love myself, and if someone feels otherwise they can look another dang direction.