Raise your hand if you’ve ever gone bathing suit shopping when you’re 7 weeks postpartum.

I didn’t think so.
I’m not so much brave as desperate. As I mentioned recently, swimming is an awesome mind-cleanser for me, and Elan is putting us through the wringer, so I need a good mind-cleanser right about now. And the bathing suit I wore all through my pregnancy was starting to put me at risk for indecent exposure so…
I started with one-pieces. I thought they would be more flattering. But this was an athletics store, so they were all Speedo and TYR and no no no no no.
Surprisingly, my regular fave the 2-piece still felt more comfortable, and looked better, “better” being a very relative term here.
In the dressing room, I kept telling myself 9 months on, 9 months off, and laughing. I laughed a lot, actually. Out loud. This crazy body, with its unaccustomed pads and rolls and ripples and soft spots where the muscle might be hiding deep in there somewhere – it doesn’t even feel like my body. I guess that’s the main difference between last time and this time. This time, it doesn’t feel quite so personal. Mostly, I just wish I felt stronger – less wibbly-wobbly and injury-prone. I’ve been taking walks with Emry in a front carrier in part to slowly strengthen my core, which is not the steely core you want when you’ve got 2 kids, one of them giving you the run-around. It’s more like a rubbery core right now. Rubber that’s melted…
You get the idea.
Anyway, I’ve got this guy:
And he’s so very worth it.