Showing Up

I was on my way to my FIRST real postpartum workout in nearly 4 months.

I jazzed myself up and planned all day to make this work. Swapping the baby in cars. Timing his feeding just right.

20 minutes before the class, I get some bummer news from Blaine. Classic military life stuff.

Teary-eyed and frustrated I say, “Forget it. I don’t even want to go anymore.”

Except I do. I have five minutes to spare and like a new kid at school, I nervously ask around for where I’m supposed to go.

Here are my thoughts throughout the whole class:

“I’m glad I showed up for myself today”

“Crap! I guess I need to invest in a new bra “

“Shoot, I should’ve brought a towel. Oh well, my shirt will do.”

“Will this affect my breastfeeding?”

“How do I get those calories back in? Ooh, a smoothie sounds nice".”

“I think the last time I sweat this much I was in labor…”

“OMG I love this song! When was the last time I felt this good?”

“Gosh darnnit, moms can be sexy too!”

“This is so freaking fun!”

“Yep, now it’s time to listen to my body and modify.”

“Where did the time go?”

“Is this ‘A Thousand Years’ by Christina Peri? I definitely might cry.”

“When can I do this again?!”

“I’M SO PROUD THAT I SHOWED UP FOR MYSELF TODAY.”
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Nothing changed about the news and I still have to go about my evening as normal but I’m glad I did it.

This role of mama is all-consuming. There are not many times when I get to show up just for me anymore.

I’m grateful for this body that made a human and I’m grateful I can move it again and I’m just so grateful I showed up.