“I love to devour”: how a mother of two children lost weight after giving birth, just cutting circles in the yard

Mom on maternity leave Anna Shmeleva wrote a sincere column about how, after pregnancy, she struggled with excess weight for the sake of “clothes” bored in her closet. “I love to eat,” she said and walked, walked, walked … The result was not long in coming. Read on and get inspired.

And if you also want to share your experience, talk about unusual situations in your life that could motivate Healthy Food Near Me readers, write to the mail nnizamova@Healthy Food Near Me. If necessary, we guarantee anonymity.

This time, of course, it was harder for me. I connected all kinds of troops, all combat supplies, pulled up allies. At 33, when I gave birth to my first child, the excess weight evaporated in a month. We went to the wedding of our friends, and I danced there in the same dress. When a pregnant woman went 9 months ago, at 39 years old, some asked if I had twins. Yes, I myself have already begun to doubt – the belly was so huge.

And after giving birth, I got on the scales. My usual 59 kilos turned into 68 kg. And we, according to tradition, were again called to the wedding.

The day before, I started trying on dresses and realized that I did not fit into any of them. More precisely, I get in with a bang at the seams and the image of a caterpillar. It was a crash. Then I went in a pregnant dress, imagining that oversize is in fashion. All my slender dresses were crying in the closet.

It was impossible to go on a diet. Firstly, I have never been on a diet in my life, secondly, I was breastfeeding and, thirdly, I love to eat. No not like this.

I love to devour.

Straight like this – fried potatoes, meat, rolls, gingerbread and dumplings for the night. In stressful situations – chips and cola.

Once my mother said that it was easier to kill me than to feed me. About which she wisely did not warn my future husband before the wedding. Poor husband.

“You need to start doing exercises,” Lesha advised sympathetically, watching me get up on the scales 10 times an hour. And I started to move actively.

I thought so: I need to throw it to 61. While I feed, let it be two kilos. One in each breast. In the end, I have never shone with a bust, but here is such an opportunity. The phone had a pedometer and a calorie burn calculator. For example, you have walked 5 thousand steps – this is a scoop of ice cream. Just one scoop of ice cream, Karl!

Everyone who saw me walking with the children thought that my kukukh had gone to distant lands. Postpartum depression. Middle Ages Crisis. No, I thought in response to them, I just love to devour, you know? And the clothes.

I walked all the time. While the little one was asleep, and the son played, I cut fiercely into circles. Like in a prison. And only the blue sky overhead. Eight thousand is a chicken leg.

Ten thousand is a hamburger! Just. I walked 15-18 thousand steps without leaving the area. And she laughed loudly at those who wrote on Facebook, they say, here, today passed 20 thousand, almost died.

I remembered that a hundred years ago I went to fitness, and there was a step.

I started jumping on the curbs. With a jump and turn. Neighbors looked at me plaintively from the neighboring windows.

Fools, I thought. – Now I’ll run into another chicken leg and devour for the night today.

Once I didn’t have time to take my quota. I put the children to bed. The husband went into the shower. And I, as a scout, began to walk with the speed of a sports car and a telephone along the corridor. The counter was spinning.

– You know, we have abnormal neighbors, – said the husband, coming out of the shower. – I heard them stomp madly. Count up, they go back and forth around the apartment at night.

I said nothing. Let him think so.

My butt tightened. Calves have become like cyclists in the Tour de France.

If you stand on a heel, it turns out beautifully.

When the weather turned bad, and it was impossible to walk and squat so much outside, I switched to home mode. No one was able to talk calmly with me.

– Good … – said the husband.

On the word “morning” I was either on the ceiling or doing push-ups under the table.

– Mom, I give up! – shouted the son at the daily evening home discos. – Better slow dance!

Little by little, 100, 120 grams each, but the weight receded. The fancy scales scanned everything to the smallest detail. At night, I still ate half of the chocolate. Sometimes the numbers went back up. The enemy was returning with his last strength.

– Do not worry, soon the body will get used to it and will itself burn weight, – the husband consoled. “It’s bullshit, after all.

– Yes, you must understand, I’m all because of the dresses! I have them so beautiful!

This was the only motivator. And then the day came when the scales showed 60,8 kg. On this day, my husband woke up with a heart attack. Because I ran and screamed with delight. The children became quiet. The neighbors have moved. It was a victory! For 9 long months I walked to her with a pedometer. And she got there.

Now I have set a new goal – 59 kg. I’ll spend this one and a half kilos on chips. Let the weight roll back and forth, no big deal. The main thing is that I fit into all the dresses again. And I can eat. All fatty and high-calorie. At night. In the conquered territories.

Editorial opinion may not reflect the views of the author.

Photo Shoot:

Anna Shmeleva’s Facebook.com page