Such a large percentage of my life has been spent attempting to lose weight. I remember going to Weight Watchers meetings with my mom when I was 9 or 10 years old. I remember being the youngest person fitness classes at New Lady Fitness in middle school. I remember being in high school, going to Imagine Weight Loss, a center that coupled diet and exercise. I remember trying Slim Fast in college to counteract the Freshman 50 (not 15…). And then several times as an adult, I have gone through the same cycle of attempting to lose, only to regain. So many times, so many diets, so many nights lying awake thinking of what life would be to be thin.
Today, I had this picture pop up in my Facebook memories. It’s from 7 years ago, which would’ve been a month and a half after my weightloss surgery. Prior to surgery, David and I had started to try to get pregnant for about 6 months. At that point, I hit the highest weight I had ever been, and I was actually scared of how big I would get should we have been successful in getting pregnant. Getting to a healthier weight was my number one motivation for surgery. I had a close friend have the lapband done a few years prior, and she had been very successful with it. I was ready to make the shift for my unborn children.
I know a lot of people assume if you’re extremely overweight, you’re unhappy in life. Prior to surgery, I was unhappy about my weight, but I was living a fulfilled life. I was happily married, working at a job I loved, back living close to family. I won’t be someone to claim the majority of my years spent as an obese person have been less gratifying than those spent at a healthier weight. At the same time, my “why” for losing the weight has fluctuated.
I was your posterchild for weightloss surgery that first year. I lost 130 pounds in a year, worked out 6 days a week, and I was in the best shape of my life. Then it happened…my whole reason for the surgery. After only a couple months of trying to conceive, we got pregnant with Elliot. And then I lost my mind. For the first time in my life, I could eat whatever I wanted, and the scale didn’t move. Problem was, I kept eating that way until he was born, and then after a really hard first couple months, I gained even more weight.
After he turned 6 months or so, I started trying to lose weight again, with the desire of having baby number two, but the weight was being much more stubborn this time around. I was not one of those moms who could breastfeed the weight away, and with sleep deprivation and struggles to find time and energy to exercise, the weight remained stubbornly on.
After over a year, I finally went back to my bariatric surgeon for an adjustment to my band, was also put on phentermine for a short while, and back on the downward slope I was. My “why” continued to be to lose in order to get pregnant again, though the pains of secondary infertility left me not only struggling to lose the weight, but also feeling responsible for the infertility because of my weight, thus putting extra pressure on myself.
It finally happened, after almost 3 years of trying to conceive and lose weight. I reached the lowest weight I’ve ever been (at least since middle school), but I still wasn’t getting pregnant. We finally went to a fertility clinic, and no joke, the last period I had was with an ultrasound, getting assessed for our issues, only to get pregnant that month.
Yet again, I lost my mind when I got pregnant, throwing out all of my good food choices. Unlike Elliot’s pregnancy, I felt terrible for a good portion of it, so I also fell out of my workout routine. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t make the same poor choices if I got pregnant again…well, that promise stood broken.
That brings us to now. As it stands, my heart doesn’t have the strength to want to try to conceive again. I think we are content with being a family of 4 at this point, and so my “why” has had to change for the first time in over 7 years. For so long, my “why” has been to get to a weight to where I felt safe getting pregnant. Since that is no longer my desire at this point, I’ve been struggling to pinpoint what my “why” should be.
I’ve mentioned it in some other posts, but truly my biggest “why” is still centered around the two precious ones I was blessed to have come from my body. I remember how it feels to be an active person, and I have missed it. For the first time, I have felt sluggish from the extra weight, and I want to be active with these guys. In some ways I’m doing it for them, but I’m also doing it for me. I could be a mom who sits on the bench watching her kids play, but I want to be out there running around with them. I have an adventurous spirit, so I want to be climbing the rocks with them.
I’ve been hesitant to go down the slide at the park since my regain. Before, I’d go down with Elliot all the time. Well, I finally decided enough was enough, and I was going to try to go down with Margaret, even if I got stuck! It just so happened, a random lady saw what I was getting ready to do and took a picture and texted it to me. (I know…a tad weird, but I’m still grateful!) It was a snug fit no doubt, but she loved it, and I’m going to keep pushing myself to be active in these guys’ lives.
Every time I choose a salad over French fries, a piece of fruit over candy, I remember this journey isn’t about making one big decision, but rather several little decisions over the course of each day. It’s choosing health, choosing to park a little further away to get more steps, it’s choosing to exercise when every part of my body wants to curl up on the couch.
Time will show if my current “why” is enough to keep me motivated and going, or if I’ll need to take it deeper. In some ways, getting back to health and fitness is flipping a switch in my brain. It feels good being back in the zone, and I look forward to seeing how far this journey takes me.
A Work in Progress 