I’m trying. God knows I’m trying. I’m trying to find the balance between sanity and insanity; something I most often struggle with.
Either I weigh in compulsively or not at all. I haven’t stepped foot onto the scale since my Post Op appointment. Kevin says he is glad I’m not torturing myself, but I can’t decide what is worse – knowing or not knowing.
I’ve taken a break from Weight Watchers, but I am counting calories/meal planning in advance and lowering my carb intake. Less than 1700 calories a day and under 100 carbs. I feel good on this – which should be all that matters, but it never is. I want to look how I feel – and I don’t.
My exercise is still pretty lacking with the exception of the occasional weekend run, walk after dinner or mile stroll to Starbucks. I don’t feel terribly guilty or upset about it either. The weather is cold and windy. I’ve made mention of getting a treadmill – but talk is just that, talk. The idea of running until I can’t think anymore sounds glorious, but when I lace my shoes up…hell, who am I kidding? I’m not even getting my running shoes on.
I never actually appreciated the weight loss until I started gaining it back before I lost the baby. I quickly noticed the 5lb, 10lb, 15lb, 20lb difference. My body changed. My pants were snug. My waist was not well defined. My face was chubby.
I, personally, can see the difference in my face here. 8 weeks pregnant vs. 3 1/2 weeks after the D&C. (The Progesterone was not kind to me.) I can look at this and see the weight is coming off, but mentally – it does not feel like it. I feel like I’m having the battle of seeing my 325lb in the mirror verses what I really am now. I know if I were to weigh in I would be discourage that I’m seeing 202 again. That I’m not on the border of “Onederland” like I was before I got pregnant. I would undoubtedly see the 220s or 2-teens. I would undoubtedly be hard on myself and then undoubtedly fall into the insanity of my cyclical nature.
My body is releasing what feels like 3 months of PMS and the rest of the pregnancy hormones. I absolutely hate feeling like this, not to mention the mood swings poor Kevin has had to endure. You cannot imagine. I get terrible insomnia when I PMS and this has been no exception. /pity party.
Long story short – I’m trying to remember that I’m beautiful and confident. That the scale is nothing more than my numerical relationship with gravity. I’m trying to remember that this too shall pass.