As you may Know, I have Crohn’s disease, which usually means I have to cut out dairy, be careful with known irritants like gluten, spicy food and thick skinned veggies. However being pregnant gave me magic hormones, which made me symptom free and put my Crohns disease completely in remission.
For the first time in 6 years I could eat whatever I wanted with no repercussions. No tummy aches, no severe bloating, no…. how shall I put this delicately…. debilitating digestive issues.
So with that in mind, what did I eat? I ate cake.
I ate cake at least twice a day, every day for 9 months. I ate every variety of cake and pudding I could find.
I was fairly active during pregnancy. My Husky Loki demanded it even with my big belly and swollen ankles. So although I gained a lot of (cake) weight, it stayed in the healthy range for my size. Unfortunately once Moo was born, despite my active efforts, it was quite evident where every slice of cake I had ever eaten, was residing.
My cake was living in a wobbly tyre around my hips, tummy and lower back. The puddings (I decided) went a bit further north and set up camp as two fat flaps under my bra strap. Marvellous. Four months after my baby, not only was I a stone and half over weight but I felt like I had aged 10 years too.
The weekend before I started Kayla Itsines BBG was my sister’s birthday. Emma was in a completely different place to me, she was confident, she felt great about herself and she wanted to celebrate. She organised a night out to a super swanky London restaurant for a small group of couples. James and I were to be the only non Londoners, so I was determined not to look frumpy or mumsy. I bought a beautiful, bright, sexy, figure hugging dress, convincing myself that this was exactly what I needed. That if I could squeeze myself in to this dress I would feel good about myself. So I got prepped. I got a spray tan, I painted my nails, I blew out my hair and I armed myself with a pair of super strength tummy control Spanx, like I was going into battle.
That night that was meant to be so glamorous, so fun, so luxurious and indulgent… felt so uncomfortable.
We started out a popular celebrity champagne bar.
By the time my second Bellini arrived, my enormous breastfeeding boobs ( that were growing larger by the second) were on the verge of exploding out of the top of my low cut dress. Feeling them throbbing uncontrollably, I politely excused myself to the ladies room. I locked myself in a very luxe black toilet cubicle, took down my top and by hand, I started to PUMP and DUMP in to the toilet. Yes…I mean that crouching over the porcelain bowl of an exclusive London hotspot; I milked myself like a cow. To make matters worse, in my vain attempt not get any of my milk on my new dress I ended up spraying my milky goodness all over the walls of the cubicle, the walls that were black, that showed up every milky white drop in all its sparkly glistening glory.. It looked like I’d boobie painted a night sky Christmas blizzard. I then spent the next ten minutes trying to buff the milk stains off the shiny lacquered walls with loo paper, as I was too embarrassed for the toilet attendant to see the mess I had made.
I hitched up my Spanx, readjusted my boobs back into my dress returned to group and we headed off to our restaurant reservation. I had hoped once seated at dinner that I would be able to relax and finally enjoy myself. As it turns out, although I had managed to temporarily curtail my burgeoning bosom, my tummy had other ideas. Ever expanding by the heavy dinner, my cake rolls were forcing the top of the Spanxs to roll down, creating unsightly, bizarre looking bulges and cutting off my circulation as they squeezed tightly round my mid section. The bulges, like sausage in a skin looked even worse squashed painfully up against the rolled down control top pants and the super tight dress just acted like microscope _ magnifying each and every lump and bump.
I spent the whole night sat at that dinner table with my coat on. Every now and then, during a break in conversation, James would lean over and whisper to me “take your coat off” but I just shook my head and wrapped my arms even tighter around my stomach.
I came home and decided I didn’t want to spend another second feeling uncomfortable and miserable in my own skin. That I would never ever wear a pair a of Spanx again and that I would never rely on a dress to make me feel good.
I gave my baby my body. I wanted my body back. It was time to rebuild my body and rebuild myself along with it.
42 weeks of Kayla Itsines #Bikinibodyguide later I can say I never have worn spanx again. I don’t project my self worth on to items of clothing and i feel better than ever about my body. This program is the hardest and the easiest thing I have ever done for myself.
It’s 28 minutes. It’s horrendous. But I’m loving myself inside and out for every single second of it.