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5 Minutes With… Lindsay Davenport

Lindsay and her first baby, Jagger

By Amy Levin-Epstein
Photo by John Russo

This pro tennis great fits us in—just three weeks postpartum—to explain how life with kids measures up to her days on the court

The second time around…my hips got bigger and my stomach got bigger sooner. The first pregnancy I put on 30 pounds and this pregnancy I put on 50.

So many women…at the end of the pregnancy want the
baby out so badly. But they’re much better off if they can stay in there. My son Jagger [now 2] was born at only 36 weeks; Lauren was born at 39 weeks. She was obviously full-term, and the difference in how big she is, how much better her ability to suck is, and her head control is—it’s truly remarkable…and the bigger they are, the better they sleep.

The last pregnancy…I came back and started playing tournaments 10 weeks after. That said, I did start hitting a few days ago, but it’s about much more now: I’m 33, I’ve had two kids, it’s definitely not as easy to jump right back into it.

When you’re a working mom…you really can’t afford to waste much time. If you’re practicing for 90 minutes, you need to bust your butt for 90 minutes to get it all in, so you can have that hour lunch with your child.

I admire…Gwen Stefani—she’s is a friend of mind. I have an enormous amount of respect for her and Gavin: when they’re with their kids, how they go about their jobs, how they feel about parenthood and working. Her job is crazier than tennis and, for her, there’s no chance she’s going to leave her children at home and there’s no chance she’s not going to spend time with them during the day even if it means getting four hours of sleep.

We’re hoping Lauren is…a little bit of a tomboy, but we’ll see. Sports is our way of life. It’ll have to be like that for our kids.

Halloween will be tricky this year…because my husband is definitely a no-candy kind of parent. I’m the opposite.

I’ve always said…my husband will be more of a parent than me. Truly, I’m the luckiest girl: He’s home by 4:00 and when he walks through the door, he does everything with my son—and I don’t exaggerate. Any time in the middle of the night, if there’s a cry, he’s always the first one up. I kind of pretend I don’t hear it a lot of the time.

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