Four and a half months after giving birth to my daughter, I met up with a friend. He took one look at me and said “Holy sh*t! That’s the way chicks need to look. Girls need to take a page out of your playbook.” It was meant to be a compliment, but it had me fuming.
I’ve been a personal trainer, fitness instructor, martial arts educator and gym owner for almost two decades. I have a decent enough following in my field that when I announced my pregnancy, all eyes were on how I would “bounce back” afterward. But here’s the thing: The term “bounce back” is toxic. It’s too simple to describe the massive journey women experience after birth, and too superficial to acknowledge there’s no going “back” after pregnancy.
I knew that getting pregnant in my late thirties would be a challenge for my body—so I began a pre-pregnancy training regiment. I wanted to gain strength, work out any pains and imbalances and make sure I was going into pregnancy at the top of my game. For four months I never missed a workout, lifting weights, kicking and punching and swinging kettlebells, but I also took good rest days and nourished my body, as if I were going into a championship fight.
In an odd way, I welcomed it. Sure, there were days of frustration, of wanting so desperately to run and kick and lift things without thinking about anything but my stamina and my playlist. This new me was different, but I actually liked being able to sit back and not rush to the gym. I enjoyed those moments where, instead of thinking about my glutes or abs, I thought for the first time in a long time about my mood, my energy and my spirit.