When you’re pregnant, you get used to counting in weeks. Week 12 is when you can tell people that you’re expecting. Week 40 is when the baby pops out. And 6 weeks after you deliver is when the doctor checks how you’ve recovered from trauma of birth.
I thought 6 weeks after delivery would be forever. And it was an important milestone for me. I’d been told not to swim until 6 weeks had passed. Yoga and pilates studios wouldn’t let me attend until I’d gotten the GP all clear.
So I was surprised when the 6 weeks arrived and I had forgotten to make the appointment. The days had flown by in a sleep-deprived haze. Feeding, nappy changes and cuddles had largely taken up those 42 days, with the occasional walk and cycle giving me a daily hour’s break from motherhood.
The doctor’s visit took a lot less time than expected. I had already healed up pretty well. The baby was feeding well. And I was happy enough. So, in less than 15 minutes, I was given the all clear.
It was slow but steady affair. It was so strange to be running after 4 months of absence, strange to be jogging without a bump getting in the way. I then did a bit of yoga out of curiosity. I hadn’t touched my toes or lain on my back since back in January. It was a creaky affair, but yes, everything folded and stretched like as before.
So now I’m back in business. Though I’m not too sure what to aim for. I’m just so glad to be able to swim, run and bike. I’m so looking forward to getting fit again. Maybe as I start to get my speed back I’ll see the races I want to run, and then set my sights on them.
However, for the first time, fitness and training are not my first priority. My kid is what I want first in my life. It’ll be interesting to see how it balances out, but time with my child is just as important to me as time on my bike. And I never thought I’d say something like that this time last year.