So since I posted my fat confession, I have lost 10 lbs. And then gained them back. Plus one.
I’m terribly unhappy with my body and yesterday, I was thisclose to switching Grady to formula so that I could start on a strict anti-carb diet and work out regimen.
Kyle was soooooooooo pissed when I told him my plans. He knows how much I love breastfeeding. He knows that it is best for Grady. And he knows that if I just put my mind to it, I could lose a few pounds while I’m still nursing. Why’s he gotta be right all the time?
The problem is that I want instant gratification. I’m not used to having to count calories in order to make enough milk, being weak from bedrest and then subsequent depression and laziness, and having to lose weight slowly. I’m used to being able to lose 20lbs in one month by eating my PCOS diet, taking Metformin, and working out.
The thought of having to lose 80lbs is daunting. I don’t want to have to lose that much weight but even worse, I don’t know where or how to start because the thought that I’m not just going to fall asleep tonight and wake up my awesome, hard, curvy self makes me want to ball up in a corner and cry some big, fat hippopotamus tears.
But after my little mental “I’m not going to breastfeed anymore” breakdown yesterday, I woke up this morning with a new outlook. I may not be the flat-bellied, curvy-reared, small-chested 20-something that I was 2 years ago but what I AM is: a mommy who is doing the very best thing for her babies by making sacrifices to nurse them; a wife who tries to please her husband every day by keeping a nice house, ironing his laundry, and doing um…other things; a mommy who is oh so proud of her babies and their growth, a woman who is savvy enough to run this phenomenal blog among all of her other responsibilities, a woman whose husband is fabulous enough to work so that she can stay home and take care of her babies (and herself), a woman who is finally comfortable and in love with her big booty, and beautiful. I am beautiful. I am perfect. I am supportive. I am hard-working. I am determined. Determined to be the best person that I can be, even if that means losing only one pound a week for 80 weeks. As quickly as the years fly by now, is that really all that much in the grande scheme of things?
So today, I woke up and had a cup of coffee, 2 eggs, and some fresh Alaskan Salmon. Then I pulled the elliptical out of its room, set it up in front of the TV and looked it, hands on my hips. Then Grady started to cry. So instead of having the mindset that my workout was over before it had even begun, I scooped him up, took him to bed, nursed him to sleep and got up. Then started a load of laundry. And then Madilyn woke up so I fed her breakfast. And then Grady started to cry. So I put him in the swing and turned around to face the sweat machine. And then I did it.
I mounted that machine like I was conquering Everest.
And 5 minutes into my workout, I wanted to stop. Then 10 minutes into my workout, I wanted to stop. Then 12 minutes into my workout I was just going to get to 20 minutes and then stop. But then this weird thing happened. I got to 20 minutes and thought, “Self, you have come 66.66666% of the way. Let’s DO THIS THING!” Then at 4 minutes left I wanted to stop because my toes were all numb. And then at 2 minutes I wanted to stop. And then with 1 minute left, I pumped up my RPMs and ran all the way home. Well…I mean…I was already home. On my elliptical in my living room. But you know what I mean.
I was fluorescent pink and sweatier than a hooker in church in the middle of July.
Did I want to stop? YES. Did I? NO!
I worked that sucker out, dismounted, ate some raw broccoli, and stretched for a good 5 minutes. And oddly, my ever-aching knees don’t hurt right now. Grady survived 30 minutes in the swing. Madilyn entertained herself with my bouncing bottom for 30 minutes. I occupied my mind with Lady Gaga songs. And we all lived to tell about it.
We’re not done, people! OH no. We’re SO not done. When I ate lunch, I had a standard portion of whole wheat pasta with homemade tomato sauce, crushed red pepper, and fresh Florida shrimp. I haven’t had sugar today and I don’t want any.
I’m ready to look hot again and KNOW that I look hot, because when I was in my teens and twenties, I had no idea how good I looked. Now as I am staring 30 in the face, I’m thinking, “Come & get me”. Because not only am I mentally ready, I am going to be physically ready.
I’m ready to start enjoying my life and myself. I wish it hadn’t taken me 30 years to get here.