BLOG: MY RETURN TO EXERCISE

Friends came to stay with us last weekend. They’re husband and wife and have a beautiful one year old baby girl. We’re all friends; the husband, the wife, me, my sister’s, etc. The wife became a good friend of mine, having shared a love for things like the gym, food, wine, etc., (standard), and having worked together, but now with babies in tow, we frequently share in our first time motherhood experiences. You know what it’s like, someone not just to seek advice from but to vent to; a sounding board. 

After less than 24 hours together the husband piped up. “So far, you’ve talked about exactly what I thought you would; your hobbies. Your baby’s sleep, laundry, Instagram (lol) and exercise.” We were equal parts offended and unsurprised. Offended by his use of the term ‘hobbies’ and ‘laundry’ in the same sentence. Unsurprised because he was right (even though we then had to spend time fleshing out our definition of the word ‘hobby’). 

Fortunately for us both, exercise has remained a constant in our lives. No matter the challenges we were thrown between conceiving, pregnancy and postpartum, we’ve both consistently exercised. From time to time whether out of choice or necessity we’ve made changes to our regime, but for both of us it’s been a constant. I’ll admit, there have been times - years - in the past where my commitment to exercise was fuelled by a different purpose and one that often felt superficial. It wasn’t until about 5 years ago I somehow transitioned my focus on exercise and its benefits to my mental health, not just my physical health. 

As I sit and reflect on my postpartum fitness journey, return to exercise, or whatever we call it, I’m grateful for having built this relationship to exercise.

My return to exercise postpartum has definitely been different to what I expected, slower than what I anticipated and 100% more challenging than I ever predicted. 

I had what the midwives call a ‘great labour’. I mean I would have called it ‘great’, too, had it not been so intense. That part wasn’t great so I wouldn’t call it great but I know it was ‘great’. Ya know? Minimal tear, no drugs, without intervention, that kind of thing. I wasn’t, nor am I against drugs. I was open minded; whatever I needed to stay in the right headspace. After 19 hours of contractions, when my midwife told me I might be just 5cm dilated, I was definitely up for anything. But when she did an internal check (they’re fun mid labour aye?) and told me I was in fact 7cm, I convinced myself I had the strength to continue as I had been. Fast forward 5 more hours and Nina was safely earthside. Sister Leece and Mum had both semi-fainted at my feet watching her entry, while my husband watched on as though he was Attenborough commentating his latest documentary. He says it looks just like a baby bird being hatched, feathers and all (Nina was hairy). 

I remember being on the hospital bed, Nina on me, saying to my midwife and husband on reflection, “that... was TOTALLY… FUCKED UP.” I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I was going through the motions in my head. Thinking back to the day prior; the small contractions I experienced over lunch with Char and Mum, being in Leece’s bath, thinking ‘this is OK, I can handle this’. And at that time, questioning everything: what else will happen, how much longer will this take, and what more will I endure, in order to meet our baby. 

I don’t think anything can make you appreciate your body more than bringing new life into the world. I remember standing in the shower looking at my vagina thinking HOLY SHIT I HOPE IT DOESN’T STAY THIS WAY. Puffy, swollen, angry looking. Blood everywhere. I remember looking at my belly; pulling and tugging at it in fascination. Quite in awe at the fact only hours prior it was huge, tight, round and packed full. 

I know I had a great labour and delivery in terms of my ability to be up and about after delivering Nina. At two weeks old Nina was in hospital with a virus and by this stage I’d been walking around easily, without pain. I had stitches from the tear that felt well taken care of. My vagina didn’t quite look so angry (lol) and had calmed its farm. The stitches had become itchy and had felt a bit ‘tight’ but had dissolved. I was very fortunate to be fairly mobile, early on. 

At six weeks postpartum I was eager to exercise. I spoke to my midwife, who said that based on her education and experience, my labour, birth, history and delivery (and an examination), I could start light exercise. Longer walks, some light weights or some light bodyweight work. In my view six weeks is still relatively early, so I took her advice with a grain of salt. I did more walking and added in some very light bodyweight exercise. I started focusing on my mind-muscle connection. Where I had previously taken pride in being fast, powerful and strong, I consciously slowed down. My focus was on small movements and activations with 100% control. If the control wasn’t there, I didn’t do it. Later, I’d revisit that exercise and try again. A lot of postpartum exercise is trial and error. Too hard today mightn’t mean too hard in two weeks’ time.

I had learned through early pregnancy that this wasn’t a time for smashing any aspirational fitness or performance goals. I’d learned that it wasn’t even a time of maintenance. Exercising while pregnant was about moving my body (for my mind, largely), strengthening the parts of the body that take on a lot of the associated physical stress and looking after my posture and joints. I had considerably scaled back everything. I started exercising postpartum in the same way, but scaled back even further than where I had left off at 39 weeks pregnant.

I didn’t want to take it this slow; it was frustrating. I wanted so badly to do full push ups on the ground again. I wanted to get my body all the way to the ground and do a full burpee. I wanted to put my runners on and go out for a run. I wanted to work out full throttle. However, I knew that my body wasn’t quite ready, so I focused on rebuilding and restrengthening it from the inside, one day at a time. 

It sucked. As someone who loves feeling smashed, sweat dripping off my eyelids and puffing as though my heart’s about to jump out of my chest, it sucked. It was a hard pill to swallow for me. To be fair, so was adjusting my exercise while pregnant. I longed to have the strength and abilities I had beforehand. Progress and regaining fitness after having a baby is a slow burn. Nothing happens overnight; it’s a slog and a constant work in progress. Remember that, if you’re postpartum. No matter if you’re 4 weeks, 4 months or 2 years postpartum. We all have to start and begin again. Some of us might never have started. Cut yourself slack; good things take time, as they say. 

Fast forward to today where I’m nearly five months into motherhood and my return to exercise. I have newfound strength. Only a few weeks ago, I could do about three commandos on my toes before having to go down to my knees. I did all upper body exercises to a height because my core wasn’t yet strong enough. A few weeks ago, I couldn’t do a tricep push up. A few weeks ago, I had to use an incline to correctly perform a series of kick sits. Today, I did one minute of commandos on my toes, TWICE. This week, I did kick sits and burpees on the floor rep after rep after rep.

I still have a way to go, to get back to where I was before. I am still slower in my upper body strength and I’m slower to move through lower body exercises. My core still requires restrengthening in order to find the endurance I once had. There are days where progress feels slow and everything feels really hard. But then there will be a day where all of a sudden a strength is back again that had temporarily been misplaced.

What I know is that this is my journey and no one else’s. What my postpartum experience looks like will differ from everyone else’s. Appreciate that. Everybody is different just like every body is different. What I also know is that I thank exercise for both my physical and mental strength with labour, birth and my recovery. I was strong in my body and in my mind because of my relationship with exercise. For years I have put my body under intentional stress through exercise, which I wholeheartedly believe helped me physically and mentally (and continues to).

Exercise teaches us to be comfortable with being uncomfortable. Labour is hugely uncomfortable, in many ways. Keeping your head and mind comfortable with the intensity and discomfort helps you to get through. A bit like how I understand the principles of hypnobirthing; helping us to treat pain as a positive and not always a negative. 

Although we may feel temporarily misplaced when pregnant or postpartum, a little out of sorts, we will find ourselves again. That’s the thing with being pregnant, a new mother, or postpartum; is that it’s temporary. Unlike our relationship with exercise and fitness which to me, isn’t temporary. It’s a part of our life and for as long as we have the privilege to be able to move our bodies, it will be a permanent fixture. 

From one mum to another, trust in the process. Wherever you are right now; you’ll get there. 

Jess xx