We dropped her off this morning.

She's been there an hour or so now. I successfully didn't sob until we got in the hallway. I didn't want her to see me cry, I didn't want to give her reason to be scared. But when I turned around for one last peek through the glass before we left, well. I mean these last few weeks she's seemed so big. But there in some strange woman's arms in that new, foreign room she's never looked smaller.

Sam went to work. I went to the gym.

And here's why I'm really blogging as I'm sure you're sick to death of my whining.

No one warned me. No one told me I'd never feel so at home, so beautiful in my body as I did when I was pregnant. I had faith in it like I never had. I trusted my body to take care of me and the babe and it came through with shining colors. Even in those weeks right after. I felt good. I dont' think I have ever felt so good. I felt like I could do anything I put my mind to. That my body, and I, were limitless in power and possibility.

And now I'm here. In this place that feels dangerously close to where I was before all that - and I don't want to be there. I want to cultivate that feeling of strength and health and beauty in my "regular" life. In my "regular" self and body.

And Sam needs time to himself with Maire.

So I'm starting to make concerted efforts. Today I went to the gym. My goal is twice a week. Never on days I work. But on days I have Maire all day. It feels I'm missing less then. Days when I leave it will be Sam holding her. It feels safer then.

And I'm getting up at ungodly hours to pump anyway, so I'll do some yoga once a week too. Twice if I'm feeling ambitious.

So there you go. I'm unhappy. That's no secret. But I'm taking steps to combat that. It's not just about weight, it's about stress, anxiety and sense of self. This is just the first half.

I want Maire to have a Mommy she can be proud of and who shows her good ways to live. That's truly my resolution.

So in an effort to make myself accountable, and just be brutally honest (with you as well, mostly, for myself) here we go.

Step one. Day one.

Stats: 177.2 lbs./ 5'8"/27.4 BMI
Treadmill: 20 minutes 3min walk/1 min run

It's not much but there it is. I want to feel beautiful and strong again. I want to be happy for my girl. It's not fair to rest all my happiness on her. It's easy, but just not fair.

It's so easy. But so not fair.