Been looking through some old pictures. Found some after Amelia was born. I think I was around 180 lbs here. That was right at the beginning of my weight loss.
And my bout with alcoholism....
Not really. But seeing the pictures got me thinking. Life happens whether you're fat, skinny, toned or flabby. You can spend a good year of your life half assed following a plan, but not really getting anywhere. And chances (if you're anything like me), you spend that year feeling depressed and mad at yourself about your weight. It colors everything. And who cares what good things happened that year because you were "fat." After all, life doesn't begin to look good until you're a size 6, right? Sounds ridiculous, I know. But I'll be the first to admit that's the way I operated (consciously or unconsciously) for a long time. Skinny was the destination. There was nothing really before or after that.
So I got skinny. I was in 4's. I had never been in 4's my entire adult life. 4's were "success." I mean, check out my legs! Phew! Now I could be happy. You know, cause I was skinny.
And then I got pregnant and gained my standard 55 lbs.
Don't get me wrong- I was thrilled to be pregnant. I wanted a third baby. But I found that all my mojo and motivation seeped out of me during that pregnancy. I continued my workouts, ate Chick Fil A Milkshakes a well balanced diet with healthy amounts of dairy and was eager to give birth and cuddle my new little boy. I had a very empowering birth and was high on that for weeks. But then life settled in. My sweet baby had extreme colic (which we know now were multiple allergies) and never slept. Like, ever. I had two babies before and their "never slept" was his good nights. I think I suffered from post partum depression, but never really wanted to admit it. Just kept focusing on getting back to where I was before Shepherd. "If I could just start running again." "If I could just follow WWs like I need to." "If I could just sleep a little." "If I could just get back to the Y." I was trying desperately to get back to where I was. Get back control. Be skinny. Be happy. THEN, I would be content.
I would compare my weight loss to my big weight loss after Amelia was born. "I need to lose x amount of weight by 16 weeks post partum if I want reach my goal by this date." But I couldn't stick with the plan to save my life. It was not working the way it worked before. And so I eventually came to the conclusion that I failed.
But soon enough I realized that was a dumb conclusion. The real conclusion was that this was not 2006. This was 2009. What worked before may not work now. Instead of blaming myself and trying to fit a square into a circle- I realized things were different now. A good different. And I needed to except that. Life looks WAY different with three kids than it looked with two. (Understatement of the century) And so I needed to adapt. And so I'm adapting. And I'm reaching my goals, but it's happening slower than before. And I've learned to be okay with that. I'm about 10 lbs from pre pregnancy weight. And that's okay. My baby is only 15 months old. And I'm only going to have these moments with him once. My body has been good to me. It's given me three beautiful children and allowed me to do anything I set my heart to. And so if it needs more time to bounce back- that's okay. And that's a choice I make daily.