(I have edited this entry. I thought of something really funny at about 3:00 a.m. when I was otherwise occupied---and this once again alludes to the As Soon As I Find My Sense of Humor About It story---and swore I'd remember the idea for today's post, but then promptly forgot. After I posted this post, I remembered and thought, oh, gee, I like the original idea better so I'll go edit.)
My entire life I have varied in body shape from skinny to thin to svelte to slender.
My first pregnancy you would have thought I was competing for a job with the Gravid Modeling Agency or else in the Healthiest Pregnant Person olympics. My doctor and his nurses were so impressed they were probably worried, thinking, "Chick has some control freak in her."
Let me remind all of you just how many years and how much effort went into getting pregnant and maintaining that pregnancy.
I was NOT going to make a mistake. I was going to be PERFECT. I was going to be WORTHY of the honor of overcoming infertility.
I'd do everything right during my pregnancy and then I'd whip my body right back into great shape and my pre-pregnancy weight within a few months.
You know, as if I were Katie Holmes and had Tom Cruise standing over me wielding a whip.
I did it, too. I just looked back at photos and found myself looking skinny holding a six month old Patience, and saw myself in my old regular clothes within three months of giving birth. My friends and I had a Pajama Party where we all wore the same PJs (cause: end violence against women) and we're in a big line holding our hands up in sign language (spelled out V-A-G-I-N-A) and I look lean and mean, in addition to totally cool.
Year 0-1 I was fantastic. I ate well, exercised, and looked good.
Year 1-2...I got fat.
So I joined Weight Watchers. I had just hit my target weight when I got pregnant. I was back in such good shape, though, that even with the second pregnancy I didn't even have anything round-ish in the belly area until probably month 4 or so.
Then I moved, and life went to hell in a handbasket.
When I think back to that period of time summer 2004 to spring 2006, my chest still tightens and my breathing increases...it still brings such anxiety. I don't know how we made it through.
I do know one coping mechanism I had: eating.
Food and I have some issues. Sometimes, it's my therapy. Bad therapy, not helpful. Like confiding in a gossipy friend. You wonder why why why did I just do that? And why can't I seem to stop?
I gained way too much weight in that pregnancy.
I left the hospital after giving birth weighing the exact same I had in my last weigh-in while 9 months pregnant.
And then I just kept adding on top of that weight until I hit a weight that made me go HOLY SHIT! Somebody pop me like a balloon and let me deflate. This isn't right!
My body was sad. I was sad. Life was sad.
Over the last two years I've tried---half-heartedly---to lose weight.
I'm one who gains and retains while nursing. I don't lose weight. I can't eat whatever and be fine. I am starving and compelled to eat a million calories, which my body then holds on to. So I'd try to diet, and my weight wouldn't budge, so I'd get depressed and give up, usually with a donut. Donuts never disappoint.
Then I found Holy Basil, and suddenly the weight started budging. So I got motivated. I weaned my toddler (hey, two years is plenty right? off the boob kid! <--- as if it was that easy BWAHAHAHA!). I joined Weight Watchers again, and next thing you know, I'm down 20.
I'm committed to this, to a healthier weight and life. So allegedly every Friday I will be posting diet details. This is so I can hold myself up to a higher standard: public ridicule.
You're probably thinking, "Dude, chick has lost her everloving mind."
Or maybe, "Who gives a rat's rear end. Nothing more boring than some lady going on fohevah about losing weight and diets and blah blah blah."
My blog won't turn into a boring weight loss diary every Friday, no worries. I'll just put that little ticker up on Friday and then talk about...whatever. Shoes, ships, sealing wax, maybe cabbages, or kings. You just never know.
Today, however, I am dedicating a little real estate and asking you to bear with me because this isn't my own personal little pilgrimage.
I am not alone in this. I have friends, people. We're in this together.
In fact, it's a very cool circle of people---bloggers---also working to become more healthy.
We are the Future M.I.L.F.s.
Lotta over at Mom O Matic came up with this AWESOME idea. If you are interested, go check it all out at The Future MILF Deal.
I'm halfway there. I'm feeling good. Looking better. My BMI is now in the healthy-no-longer-overweight range. That is fabulous.
copyright 2007 Julie Pippert
Technorati Tags: diet, weight loss,MILF,Weight Watchers,Nursing weight gain