Feels like I had a baby on Saturday. A marathon baby.
For the last few months, thoughts of my marathon baby have consumed me. I’ve focused all my attention on eating right (not really), hydrating (kind of) and nurturing (ish) my little running fetus.
I waited anxiously for my race day water to break, and carefully packed my bags for that fateful trip to the starting line hospital where I’d squeeze out my little 26.2 pound bundle of torment.
And now that it’s out, I just feel…empty. And sore.
Is this what it’s like for new mothers?