I was chatting with my friend Casey last night about our pregnancies. We both had pretty crappy experiences with being in the family way. We weren’t having a pity party so much as telling war stories. When she asked me to name one thing that went right in my pregnancy (besides having Maddie, of course), I sat there for a while trying to think of something before I gave up. I don’t know how I forgot the only thing I brag about – I didn’t get any stretch marks!

I gained about 12 pounds when I was pregnant. That’s the smallest weight gain of anyone I know, save Casey, who lost weight (don’t be jealous, you don’t want what she had). I know I was barely pregnant, but most women gain at least 20 pounds, right? My weight gain was hard-earned. I had NO appetite. Seriously, ask Mike. Almost all food sounded terrible, and the food that I could stand was hardly nutritious. I ate lots of chocolate chip milk shakes and apple pies. All well and good, but when I was diagnosed with The Diabetes, I couldn’t eat that stuff anymore. I had IVs in the hospital that gave me valuable nutrition, which is the only way I can explain how Maddie came out at three pounds – huuuuge for a 28 weeker.

Today I weighed myself and I’m below my pre-pregnancy weight. It took me six freaking months to get to this point, but I did it and I’m pleased with myself. This isn’t my goal weight, though. As someone so nicely so pointed out to me, I gained my baby weight before I got pregnant. It’s one thing when I make that joke, it’s quite another when someone else does. If I hadn’t been pregnant when I got that comment, that would have sent me into a tailspin. I’ve been known to crash diet to lose weight.

A few months before I met Mike, some poor eating habits and questionable yoga helped get me get down to a size zero. If you know me now, you’ve probably forgotten I was that small, but I have the jeans to prove it. Being with Mike improved my health, but age was on my side so I didn’t gain much weight back. When I lived in New York City, I had a coworker say “ew, I thought Californians were healthy,” when I ordered a grilled cheese sandwich. I decided to act the part, so I joined a gym and worked my ass off. I was in GREAT shape. I just looked through my Flickr site for a good picture of me then, but I wasn’t exactly running around in a bikini in NYC, you know? Cold weather = clothes that aren’t flattering. When I moved back to LA, I didn’t have a job and spent a lot of time on my computer looking for one, i.e. sitting still and eating. Age wasn’t on my side so much anymore. The weight came back, plus a little more. Doesn’t it always?

Rereading this I realize how damn impressionable I am! Jeez. Well, this time I am losing weight by dieting and thinking about exercise (what, thinking about it burns calories!), and even though it’s taking a freaking marathon amount of time, I am going to get to my goal weight. I know they say nine months to gain it, nine months to lose it. But here’s my question: Can I still have nine months even though I was only pregnant seven?