But, as these things go, I want to be a good mom, it needed to happen, and we have our second baby due any day now. So last week, I decided to have at it. I share this story in the hopes that it helps others who are taking a stab at this for the first time.

I first attempted this about three months ago, and it didn’t go well. I had a very close friend tell me about the one-day method she’s used on three of her four children. It goes something like this:

You get the child really excited about their special day. You talk to them about it almost a week in advance, get underwear decorated with cartoon characters for them and tell them that it will be a day for just the two of you. Make plans for your other kids (if you have them), your spouse, turn off the phone, everything. Devote the entire day just to your child. Put the potty in the living room (cover the floor and any rugs with lots of towels), play special games, watch their favorite shows, and keep them pretty much undressed. Every time they start to pee, put them right on the potty. Have a lot of salty snacks and lots of liquids so the opportunity to put them on the potty comes up a lot. Literally, by the end of the day, the child will be potty trained. But it does take non-stop, minute by minute effort on your part. The idea is that one day is worth it.

With this philosophy, the nighttime and nap time training happens at the same time, and this piece can take up to two weeks. Put them in underpants to sleep, and if they get wet, they get wet. It’s how they will learn. Be very supportive and encourage them to wake up when they feel they may need to go. If the bed is wet, don’t say anything negative. Something more along the lines of, “Oh man. I’m sorry you’re wet! I bet that doesn’t feel very good. You can do it next time. You’re getting so big. This is all so new and you’re doing so well!”

Obviously, help them out. Stop giving them liquids an hour before sleep and have them go to the potty right before they go down. But in about two weeks, after you’ve done far too much laundry, they will learn that they don’t like waking up wet, and they will either call to you for help with the potty, or go themselves.

So that’s the “one day” package.

Like I said, I tried this about three months ago, and I failed miserably. After about an hour, being six months pregnant, I didn’t have the energy. I put a diaper on him and we went to the park. That was my failing. I’ve heard from many a mother that this method works very well. I was too lazy. If you have the energy, go for it. It works. I’ve seen it.

Anyway, to get to the successful adventure, here’s what happened this last week when I finally decided to get off my duff and make this happen. Well, that and I just could not bear the thought of changing two sets of diapers. That’s just not something I was willing to do.

So on Monday morning, I took out the cartoon character underpants and got him all excited. I also bought some sparkly stickers for number one and some intricate and pretty Disney stickers for number two. I taped a blank piece of paper on the bathroom door, got his little potty situated on the larger toilet and prepped myself for some clean up and a long day.

I told him no more diapers today! In fact, I even made up a song. He had no idea what it all meant, but he could tell something was up. We had about three accidents in the first hour. He would start, try to hold it, but not quite understand that when I put him on the potty, it was time to go. This went on for most of the morning, and by the time he was asleep for his nap, I had a load of laundry to do. I knew enough to make sure that I was not negative with the accidents, I would quietly change him and would say things like, “It’s so great to go in the potty because we don’t get wet! Isn’t that great?”

As I was putting him down for his nap that day, I realized I hadn’t thought about sleep time. So I put a diaper on him and put him to sleep. While I was doing the mound of wet laundry I thought I might lose my mind, but I stuck to my guns. I also decided that I was just going to go for it. I would put a bunch of towels under his flat sheet overnight and just go for it. Whatever, I could handle laundry. He woke up with a dry diaper. I almost cried with joy.

The evening went much the same way as the morning, except he started to say “Uh oh!” right before he got wet, and he would run to the bathroom. So I could see that a connection was starting to be made in his little head. He’s a tidy little guy, and he didn’t like being wet. During this time if he got even a drop in the toilet, I threw a party like few have ever seen. My huge eight-month pregnant body managed to jump up and down and I would get so excited for him! We would run to the kitchen, get our sparkly sticker and run to put it on the paper. The process was finished with a huge high-five and an, “I’m so proud of you!”

That night, I grit my teeth and went for it. I told him how proud I was of him, what a great job he was doing learning something new and told him that if he felt himself get wet, all he had to do was call me and I would help him right away. I also made sure to stop giving him liquids about 90 minutes before he went to bed. I figured the least I could do was help the kid out as much as possible.

Can I tell you that I wept in the morning when he was dry? Wept I tell you…

Day two went much like day one. He would try to hold it, wasn’t sure exactly how to let it go on the potty, and then in the late morning, before his nap, we had our “a-ha” moment. He had done the stop and start wetting himself all morning, but he hadn’t done anything substantial, if you know what I mean. I could tell that he was holding it in and trying not to get wet, and it was getting hard to hold it in.

So, after the third pair of pants and underpants had to be put in the laundry, I sat him on the potty and said, “Oh, I forgot something. Stay there, I’ll be right back.” Gave him a huge smile and stood right outside the door. It worked. He let go. I walked backed in slowly with a smile and said, “Yes! That’s it buddy!” And he froze and stopped. I continued, “That’s right, let it go, that’s perfect!” So he let go again and I literally saw the click in his eye. He finally understood that while on the potty he could let it go all the way. And he did.

We’ve never had an accident since (knocks on wood). Not one. He hated being wet so much, and we got rid of all the diapers, so he knew he had to figure this out. And figure out he did.

Now, there has to be a distinct section here for number two. It’s a whole other adventure for these kids and it takes a little bit more attention. I’ve heard that kids think that it’s actually a “part of them” and it can be really scary to let it go. I don’t understand that, but I will say that I witnessed it. It’s a different territory and it needs different attention.

We haven’t had an accident in this area, and I think that’s mostly because of my son’s tidy nature, but I could be wrong about that…maybe that’s just the way it is. But the first time he realized he had to go, and that I wouldn’t give him a diaper to go in, there were tears, upset and genuine fear. I put him on my lap and smiled at him and said, “I know you’re about to do something new and that it feels a little bit weird, huh.” He whimpered and nodded. “And you know what? You can do this buddy. It’s new, it’s different and I’m going to be here with you, you’re going to be OK. I promise.”

It took about five minutes of coaxing, and he did it. He was talking to himself the entire time, “It’s OK, it’s OK, it’s OK” over and over again. Kind of broke my heart and made me proud at the same time. Proud he could talk to himself and sad that it was so scary for him. I kept smiling and nodding and giving him encouragement. He was so proud. He stared into the toilet in awe. There was evidence, he had done it. He got his special Disney sticker and he told everyone we saw for days.

I sighed with relief knowing that if he could do this once, we were on our way. And we have been. He’ll hold it in at times because it’s still a little scary. And a few days after this first time, it took me almost two hours to get him to go. So it took a while, but again, once they’ve done it one time, we know that they can do it. From there, it’s positive encouragement and ignoring the accidents.

I cannot believe that this much of my life has been spent on this topic, and I’m so grateful that we only have to do this once. I mean, could you imagine if we had to do this over and over again? HA HA. No thanks. Anyway, I hope this has been helpful if you’re about to embark on your first potty adventure.

Here’s the quick list of things I learned, I hope they help!

1 – Be patient with your little one. While we take for granted this process every day, it is very new to them, and they really have to learn what happens when they don’t pay attention to the signs, and what happens when they’re able to make it. Our kids do not have accidents to upset us, they don’t know how this works yet. A little one is doing the best he or she can, try and remember that when you see that little puddle.

2 – Remember that you only have to do this once.

3 – Keep a sense of humor when you can. For your own sense of sanity, try to find the humor in it all. It’s crazy that we have to learn how to do this! (Obviously, don’t ever let your child see you laugh! You don’t want them to think you’re laughing at them!)

4 – Do take the time to train for sleep as well as waking times all at once. Telling your child that there are no more diapers, and then putting on a diaper at night, can confuse them or make them feel there are times that going to the potty isn’t necessary.

5 – The night training can take up to two weeks. Be patient. Let them wet the bed. Protect the mattress, use towels under the flat sheet and be prepared to do a lot of laundry. Every mom I know that waited for the night/nap training had a child who would wet the bed longer. Rip off the band-aid and go for it.

6 – Don’t go back. Once you tell your child that the diapers are gone, stick to your guns. The regression would be horrific and you will regret it. Stick with the laundry, the accidents and the clean up and go for it.

I just checked on my almost three-year-old son after tucking him in to bed about an hour and a half ago. I came downstairs to send out the invitations to his birthday party (Diego themed, of course) and I realized I had tears streaming down my face (again). I’m assuming that most of these tears can be blamed on hormones and the fact that I had our second baby a whopping twelve days ago. But in this moment, right now, I’m really sad.

My husband and I wanted to add on to our family mostly because we wanted our first-born to have siblings and know sibling love, and well, learn how to share attention and love.

But we have both found that since the time she was born, we are having a really hard time adjusting. We both love our second child, there is no question about that, but we miss our first-born! We both have the feeling that we haven’t seen him in a while, and as we were so busy focusing on him and making sure he was OK with the transition, we didn’t stop to think about how the transition might affect us. On top of that, we feel like we aren’t as attentive to our second child as we were to our first. Oh the guilt that brings on!

Again, I’m aware that as I write this, I’m under the influence of hormones — nothing to shake a stick at. And perhaps the feelings of sadness will go away. But as I’ve expressed this feeling of confusion and surprise to my friends who have more than one child, they have all nodded sagely as I’ve expressed my concerns. So this tells me that I’m not alone in this experience.

I have likened this adjustment to the one that a romantic relationship goes through when a child enters the picture.  Suddenly, sexual organs aren’t so sexy any more, and they’re being used for something other than pleasure. Date nights have to be scheduled, not spontaneously indulged in and flirtation or jumping in the car for a long weekend — all of these things either disappear completely or become very rare. Life just changes. The romantic relationship that existed one second before the child was born, is completely altered. It’s still there, but it’s not the same relationship.

And, while the addition is wonderful and exciting, there is something that is mourned at the same time. The door on the “old way” is closed, and we are left to find our way, quite blindly, through the “new way” door.

I have found myself going through this experience again — only the “old way” I am missing is the relationship with my son. I’m not sure how to just be with him any more. When I play cars with him on the floor, I always have one ear cocked for the baby.  When I am nursing the baby, I find myself over-reacting, in a positive way, to everything my son does so he doesn’t feel left out.

Then there is the guilt about not feeling as “bonded” with the second child as we did the first. Everything feels much more mechanical this time around. Like, we know what to expect and when to expect it, so the “magic” of the baby isn’t here this time.

I think that’s having both a positive and negative affect on this experience. Positive in that I’m not nearly as stressed out as I was with our first. My milk is flowing much better, I’m sleeping better, the new baby seems really happy and I’m not worried about every sound I hear from her or every face she makes. She’s beautiful, we love her, she eats, she poops, she sleeps, the end.

The negative side is that because I’m not going through the same experience, I feel like there is something missing in me, the mom. How can I not fret about every noise and face? What’s wrong with me? Am I turning into a bad mom? Am I playing favorites already? Is it just hormones? Will this go away?

I was prepared for her personality to be different, or for her to be a difficult baby as he was so easy. I was prepared for the idea that she may be different from her brother. But what I was not prepared for was a difference in the way I felt about being her mother. This part has really thrown me for a loop. I’m sure it will pass, and all of you incredibly patient mothers who have three or four children would pat me on the shoulder and tell me it gets better.

I share all of this because as I’ve been talking to other moms, I’ve found that this is in fact another “dark side of the moon” secret about motherhood that people don’t talk about. I think we should be talking about it. I’m not the only new mom to go through this, and I certainly won’t be the last. And I think it’s important that we know we’re “normal” (well, as normal as any of us really are…ha ha), and that it’s OK.

I’ve been promised by the moms that have gone through this that it does get better, and that the family dynamic, while altered forever, will settle down and we will all find our places. Even I will forgive myself for not fretting over this one like I did the last, and I will learn to rely on everything I’ve learned as a mother and trust that my new little one knows I love her and she will grow and flourish — and might even become a little bit more self-reliant than the first born.

You know, because I won’t be in her face fretting about every move she makes.

Hormone induced tears streamed down my face and splattered my little boys swaddling blanket. “What is wrong with your father?” I asked the little being — who, by the way, provided no response. “How can he not be home? Doesn’t he know how long today was for me? How could he not run home to be with us?”

By the time my lovely husband walked through the door, I was a mess. I held it in, wanting him to sit down and have a break before I lit into him. And I was glad I did, because I noticed he was carrying several shopping bags. He had gone shopping for me at one of my favorite bath shops. I had massage oil, and bath salts, and great smelling lotion and a gift certificate for a massage.

I was grateful, and then I lit into him anyway.

“I need you to come home after work, I miss you, and I’m lonely.”

He looked at me like I had two heads.

I guess we can file this under the “husbands/partners don’t get how hard it is to be home with the kids,” but I think this is really specific to the newborn phase and the incredible demand it places on us moms. There are the feedings every three hours. And it’s not like you feed that baby at noon for five minutes and then you have three hours to yourself until the five minute feeding at 3:00. No no. It’s 45 minutes of feeding at noon, then changing the baby for five minutes, and then walking around with the baby until he falls asleep at around 1:45. Then it’s 15 minutes for a shower and to (heaven forbid) put on lotion, make a bed or wash two or three dishes. By then it’s 2:30, and just as you settle in and are about to fall asleep on the couch, the baby wakes up and you get to start this all over again.

It’s demanding, there is little interaction with the baby, and it’s lonely.

So, let’s talk about that….shall we?

First of all, we all go through it. And I think a lot of us feel guilty about it — at least I know I definitely do.  I love being a mom, more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. I love the smell of the baby, I love that I’m able to breast feed (yes, you read that right…I’m odd, I know), I love staring at the baby and trying to figure out who he’ll look like later in life…and this newborn phase is really hard.

Nothing wrong with it being hard, you know? It just is. I think if we can actually say that out loud and not be ashamed, then that’s a huge bonus for us because it allows us to actually try and find some solutions and tips for working through it.

Below are some ideas that I’ve found really work for me…

Tips for Passing the Time During Breastfeeding:

Become a Netflix user! Yes, you read that right. You can get the cheapest package, which is around $9.99 a month. This will allow you to catch up on all your old favorites, you can order some fun movies for older siblings, you can order all those movies you haven’t have a chance to see but meant to, and the time with your little one won’t seem so lonely.

Read magazines with really small print! HA HA. I’m completely serious. If you read Time,Newsweek, The New Yorker or even Comso or Glamour, the articles are long so you won’t have to turn the pages often (good when your hands are tied up with the little one) and you can catch up on world events, your favorite authors and feel like you’re in touch with the world without having to watch sleazy “news shows” or really bad day-time television.

General Tips:

Do make dates with your friends as well as your husband. Even if it’s only that they stop by for 30 minutes after they come home from work or stop by for lunch. It’s really important to have that time with people that can respond to your questions and can feed you emotionally as you do for your family.

Make a daily routine for yourself, even in the haze of sleeplessness. If you wear make up, make sure you put it on every day (or at least most days). It will remind you that you’re still in there, and that you do care about how you look – even if the baby doesn’t.

Make your bed every day — even if you just get back in it later on. It brings a sense of normalcy and calm to your day.

Go for a walk with the baby.  This will provide you with some fresh air and some sunshine, even if it’s winter (bundle that baby up!).

Use the social networking sites that we all use now: Facebook, Twitter, MySpace or even LinkedIn to stay in touch with people throughout the day so you don’t feel that the world is passing you by as you stay inside with your new best friend.

These are just some ideas that have worked for me, I hope they help. Congratulations on your newborn!! Kiss those chubby cheeks and love that baby up! Your little baby will be big before you know it!

If you are concerned that you may have Post-Partem Despression or that you may need some help, definitely call you doctor. Depression is the number one (NUMBER ONE!) complication of childbirth, and it is nothing to be ashamed of.

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But are you kidding me? Pregnant with her fourth child, she runs around like nothing is different, she’s ruling the entertainment and fashion world, she looks like she put a very small soccer ball in her shirt and decided to go to work, in heels and short skirts no less. Whatever. And then my favorite, as she’s on the runway in bikini lingerie?eight weeks after giving birth, she claims that she’s “just so busy” running after her kids so the “weight just falls off.” HA HA. That’s a lie. I run after my kids too?? and that does not, in?any way, prevent me from grabbing a donut while I run through the kitchen.I know we pregnant women aren’t supposed to compare ourselves to celebrities, but?come on. I dare you to ask?any mother if she knows which celebrities were pregnant the same time she was, and she can rattle of the names in two seconds flat. They’re in our faces all day long, and they are always portrayed as the “ideal.” And I really admire Heidi. I watch what she does and I follow her career. However, I find that I’m pretty annoyed that this incredibly beautiful and resourceful woman gets to look amazing even when she’s pregnant.

I’m not one of those women. Nope. Not even a little bit. And if you are, more power to you. You are lucky and you should flaunt it! I know I would. But for me, no one has ever seen me from behind and said, “Wow, you can’t even tell you’re pregnant from back here!” Yeah,?neverhappened to me. When I’m pregnant, I get swollen (like, I have elephant man legs and man hands), I get really sick, I gain weight?everywhere (I swear, even my eyebrows look bigger), I’m grumpy, I?m uncomfortable and I really dislike every minute of it.

Oh, I know that we “forget” how hard it is (I clearly did or I wouldn’t have done it more than once). But I remember during my first pregnancy sitting in my office in New York City and looking out my window at all the people below. Suddenly it hit me: for every person on the planet, a woman had to go through this. This has probably occurred to some of you smarter people already, but that was the first time I had this thought as I sat there watching the multitudes of people on the street below.

And I was suddenly?really angry. WHY DIDN?T ANYONE TELL ME HOW HARD IT IS TO BE PREGNANT??Look at all those people down there!?They all have mothers!?Someone knew! Someone had a hard pregnancy! Why didn’t anyone tell me?

Well my friends,?I am here to tell you.

Granted, there are the Heidi Klums of the world, and women I actually know who love being pregnant. I completely get that. But there are people like me too, and I think it’s time I tell this side of pregnancy. I know I’m not the only one.

Now, there’s one other thing I’d like to say: as hard as this is for me, I realize that I’m incredibly blessed and lucky to get pregnant as quickly as I do, and to have such healthy babies and pregnancies. My griping is not to take away at all from the joy, love and absolute bliss that being a mom brings me. But I will say that the road to that baby and that bliss is not an easy one for me to travel.

Here’s how it goes for me.

Before I even pee on the stick, I already know. My boobs are so sore, that going up or down stairs hurts. Walking too quickly hurts, the water in the shower hurts. Hell, even wind hurts. Did I mention my boobs hurt? The other sign is that I suddenly have a case of serious narcolepsy. Oh yes. Cannot keep my eyes open passed about 8:00pm no matter what I do. In fact (heaven forgive me) it even happens at work. There have been meetings that my body attended, but I have no idea what happened in them. There were e-mails I remember sending, but I’m fairly certain complete sentences were not formed. All of this happens about two days before I miss my period.

Then I have about two weeks to be really happy that I’m pregnant. My boobs are sore and I have a bad case of narcolepsy, but I’m happy. But after those first two weeks, I hate the world. I become completely apathetic, and I do mean completely. I can see 200 e-mails in my inbox, and walk out of my office without a second thought. I can walk into the kitchen and see a mess, and walk right back out without batting an eye. This is actually really hard for me, because as I’m sure you can tell, I’m quite a passionate person and I care deeply about many things, but not during my first trimester. And this makes me feel bad about myself, at least until even more apathy kicks in and then I don’t care that I don’t care.

Once the apathy really settles in, I get sick. Let me be clear about?how sick. This is not the, “oh, my?I feel a little faint” kind of sick. Not even the, “man, I really need to lie down,” kind of sick. No no. This is the, I’m sitting backwards on a speedboat in very choppy waters while I have the flu?and food poisoning, kind of sick. The, I have zero energy, I cannot lift my head, my stomach is hot, everything smells, I hate everyone, why was I ever born, kind of sick. I don’t remember Christmas last year, or New Year’s Eve. I have no idea what happened on those days. Big holidays. I think I was on the couch, but I’m not even sure. All a blur.

To go to work like this, to function at all, is truly a miracle. Now, as I’m going through this, I really do try and look at the positive side. First of all, I get to have a baby, and that is a huge reward. Secondly, what my body is doing is an absolute miracle. It’s something our scientists have tried to do for decades and cannot. And I get to do it while I sleep, while I throw up, while I doze through meetings and take care of my house (well, walk in and out of rooms anyway). So if I’m to be objective and take the incredible, most horrible illness and put it into perspective, I would say that it really is a miracle we’re not all in a coma for the first trimester. The human body truly is amazing.

In addition, I will have to admit that I’m not pleasant while nature does its work. As I lie on the couch and feel guilty that I can’t help around the house, and then allow the apathy to quell any guilt, I’ve been known to look at my husband as I lie there and say, “What? I’m busy! I made a nervous system today, and maybe even a spleen. What did?you do?” Yeah, have I mentioned how incredibly patient my husband is?

Then comes the second trimester, the first half of which I continue to spend very sick. You’d thinkall the sickness would help me not gain the 30 to 45 pounds I tend to gain, but it does not. I crave lovely light and healthy things like pizza grease (yes, you read that right) avocados?? which taste better with mayonnaise (again, not kidding), butter and cream cheese. And my favorite: the Dorito sandwich. It helps with the nausea. If you want the recipe, e-mail me and I’ll be happy to share. So while I lose half of what I eat through the first half of this trimester, all I can eat is pure fat, so well, I get fat.

The second half of the second trimester is really hard on my ego. As I start to come out of the fog of morning sickness, I realize I’m quite unattractive. I want to make a shirt that says, “I’m not fat, I’m pregnant.” (If any of you make that shirt, I get 50% of the revenue?? just sayin’.) Because you can’t really tell I’m pregnant yet, I just look plump. It’s not easy for me to go through that. I know I shouldn’t care about my looks, but I do, I can’t help it. I’ve been a dancer all my life, I love looking great in jeans, and well, duing this time I look frumpy, fat and swollen. But my baby bump isn’t big enough to warrant the “awww” and “you look so cute!” comments that we all enjoy around the sixth and seventh month.

Oh yeah. And this is when the sneezing, coughing and laughing produce small amounts of pee. Yeah, that’s lovely. So now I feel fat, unattractive and I pee on myself.? Real and honest people, real and honest (and go ahead and laugh at my expense too, I’m cool with it).

Then comes the trimester that I think we have to go through in order to be willing to go through labor: the daunting and horrific third trimester. This is when body parts that should not ever touch, touch. My thighs should never meet my belly, that’s just not right. And to have my boobs rest on my belly while my belly rests on my thighs is just an awful feeling. It’s just flat out weird. In fact, as I type this in my ninth month, I actually have to sit with my legs apart, because my belly is in the way.

And the heartburn, can we talk about the heartburn? I actually have to spend this trimester sleeping sitting up. If I do slide down the pillows I use to prop myself up, I wake up with acid in my mouth. No, I’m not kidding. I really wish I was. So I keep a bottle of Tums by my bed at night, just in case I make the mistake of slipping down the pillows while I sleep. I’ve tried the vinegar pills, eating crackers, ice cream and drinking water. The only thing that works is staying as vertical as possible. It’s not like I sleep anyway. My hips hurt, the baby gets the hiccups (it’s cute ? can’t sleep through them, but it’s cute), my leg falls asleep or well, there is just a level of insomnia that comes when one is this big.

So, basically, for me, it’s ten months (Yes,?ten. Forty weeks, four weeks in a month, it’s ten months. Anyone who says it’s not is lying.) of really feeling awful physically, a bruised ego, very odd fat cravings and a lot of discomfort. I will be honest and say that labor is fairly easy for me. So I’ll leave that article to someone else. For me labor is a joy. I don’t mean the actual contractions (my husband can share the war stories about my bad mouth and foul attitude during contractions), I mean knowing that the end of the pregnancy is near and that I get to meet my baby soon. I really do take those first contractions to be the light at the end of the tunnel. I know that once I feel those, I will soon be the only person in my body. And?that is a good thing.

So when I hear Heidi Klum talk about how wonderful it is to be pregnant and how she doesn’t give a second thought to the 45 pounds she gains while under the public eye, I think, “Well, good for her.” OK OK?I think that after I go through a litany of negative thoughts and bouts of jealousy, but I do think it. I wish I was like that, but I’m not. I’m?so not.

But like Ms. Klum, I love being a mom. My beautiful children are worth the pain, the discomfort, the fat, the post-partum struggle with weight loss, the sore boobs, the stretch marks, the months of vomiting, the sleepless nights (even before they’re here) and the acid in my mouth. I just wish that someone had told me how hard it?really is, so I could have been better prepared.

And that, my friends, is why I wrote this article. You can now say that you’ve been told. You’ll forget that I told you, and you’ll cry and be angry and claim that no one told you, but at least I can know that I tried. And as you crawl up your stairs to sleep at 7:30 at night, or you cry after you’ve thrown up for the third time in a day, I hope that some memory of this article will come floating back to you and you will know that you’re not alone.

And for those of you, who like Heidi Klum, that have wonderful pregnancies, my hope is that this article fills you with gratitude and joy. You are lucky, and I, for one, am incredibly jealous and happy for you.

To our kids.

www.betterwaymoms.com

I don’t know about you, but I’ve lost the same ten pounds probably a good fifteen times in my life. That’s a whole person. In fact, that’s my current weight (please don’t tell). I have had some incredibly successful runs with losing weight. Wait, umm, make that two. I’ve had two successful runs with weight loss in my life. In my early 20’s during the throws of new love, I realized I had gained quite a bit of weight. I was getting ready for work one morning, and I looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a white turtleneck (anyone who sells white turtlenecks to anyone other than Diane Keaton should be shot) and I was stunned at the reflection staring back at me. Stunned I say. I walked into a weight loss clinic and started that day. That was all there was to it. I was shocked, horrified even, and that was it. No waffling (had to use that word, now didn’t I), I just did it. Three months later I had lost 30 pounds and kept it off for four years. I weighed a beautiful 122 pounds. Perfect for me. ??The other time I successfully lost weight was in high school (scary and wrong, I know), when I lost ten pounds — to catch the eye of a boy, no less — and kept it off for two years. Um, let’s scrap this one. Losing weight when you have the metabolism of a small, very active animal isn’t quite as hard. So I guess that means there’s really only been that one time that I lost weight. Great. Excuse me while I go get my secret stash of chocolate and cry in my slippers.

Enter motherhood. Metabolism of small animal is no more. The determination and drive of the early 20’s, gone. I remember walking into friends’ houses when I was younger, and thinking of their moms, “What is wrong with that woman? Why doesn’t she just lose the weight? I know she’s had four kids, but good grief. Put the muffin down, woman.” Then there were the fit moms, of whom I was already jealous, “What? Does she want our boyfriends? Why does she have to look that good anyway? That’s not fair. And when I’m older, I’m going to look just like her.” (Um, I don’t by the way.)??I know it’s hard to lose weight. Anyone who says otherwise is lying. That’s just the way it is. And I know for me, I will have to be hungry if I’m losing weight. I’m not someone who can skip dessert for a few weeks and lose weight. My body just doesn’t work that way. I’m OK with that (for the most part), but that doesn’t make the actual day-to-day battle with my weight any easier, “Should I get dessert? No. Oh, but it looks good. The button on my pants is digging into my stomach, no dessert. Oh, but the cheese looks good! What button? What pants? This is cheese people!”??Which brings me back to watching Helen last week on the Biggest Loser (a testiment to moms everywhere!). As I sat on the couch, my body swollen and pregnant, I found myself tearing up watching these people. I wonder what their day-to-day was like before the show. Talk about a struggle. I compare what that must have been like in those 300 pound bodies to their current tears of joy, the clips of them sweating, crying and sometimes even vomiting in the gym. They did it. They paid a huge price, and they did it. Fists flying in the air when they see how much they’ve lost; pure, real, honest joy. Some of them have even turned into true athletes. It’s incredibly moving to watch.

I’m jealous. I mean, I’m so happy for them too, and I’m in complete awe. How amazing is this? Knowing that I have to experience hunger if I’m really going to lose weight, and how hard it is to exercise when we’re tired and have so many things to do, it’s just so inspiring. Helen, our champion mom, is older than a lot of the contestants. She has spent her entire life eating and being heavy. And last night, most of this country watched her up there on the stage, weighing in at a tiny 117 pounds. I just shook my head. I could feel her pride, and the satisfaction she must have felt after all those excruciating hours of exercise and healthy eating.

Obviously, there is some serious motivation when all of America is watching you (note to self: figure out how to get on TV), or when you have an incredible personal trainer. We can see what a difference it makes to have someone pushing you 24/7. The contestants who were sent home early on in the game lost a little bit of weight, 30 pounds, some even 100 pounds. But not the 150 to 200 that we saw from those who were able to have the coaching for so long. But what is consistent for all of them is that the hard work really does pay off. So this means that we either need to find a Jillian to train us, get on TV, or get our mouths wired shut. Cool. I’m all over it.??I jest (sort of).

I read recently that American women would rather get plastic surgery than eat well and exercise. Can you stand it? The Golden Idol of thin is literally so important to us, that we would rather be put under, cut open with a knife, jabbed by a horrible tool, lose blood, be bruised and swollen for weeks, than we would cut back on our beloved food. It’s pretty fascinating to me. And believe me, I’m right at the front lines of this. I have a baby coming in the heat of summer, and I’ll be aching to get in a pool. But I won’t. I know me. My body takes a good year to go back to where I like it after I have a kid. And listen, it’s two years of my life so my kids can have healthy bodies. I completely respect that, and it’s just part of the deal. I’m OK with that. My kids are completely worth it. But it’s hard.??So, wait I will. I’m sure I’ll have many a Monday morning “false start”, and then one day I’ll remember that I still want to lose weight come 2:30 in the afternoon — Doritos or no. I’ll think of the Helen’s of the world and remind myself that if she can do it, I can do it. Any of us can do it. But like so many things about womanhood and motherhood, I wish someone had told us just how hard it all really is.

betterwaymoms