I am a gym goer. I have been for twelve years. Going for a workout is the only part of my day that I get to be selfish. It is there that I can tune out the world and concentrate on bettering myself both physically and mentally. It never fails to bring me out of a bad mood, and always guarantees to enable a good sleep at the end of the day. It has always been one of my favourite pastimes.
I was recently told at 30 weeks that I had to stop going to the gym. For the last five years of our marriage, it has served as many date nights, a shared interest, a ton of humorous conversations, a mood lifter, and an overall constant routine in our lives. Now, it will remain a thing of the past and not-so-distant-future.
These photos were taken to commemorate my last visit to the gym, at nearly 7 months into my pregnancy. In fact, it was at the gym where I had discovered that we were going to have a baby! I had taken a pregnancy test in the bathroom stall, not thinking at all that it would be positive. After seeing the results, I cried and cried, sent a picture to my husband, called my mum and sister, then had a workout. I will never forget that, and find it quite funny today.
So, goodbye friend. Until it is medically safe to meet again. (Above is my bump at 15 weeks. That was my first visit back after 11 weeks of morning sickness.)