Wednesday, January 13, 2010

New Year, New Me...Again.

My weight loss history is almost as involved and convoluted as my IF treatment history (although personally I would much rather be overweight than infertile-losing weight is cheaper and easier than IVF!). Let's just face it, I could put a yo-yo to shame...or Oprah. Yeah, me and Oprah are totally weight loss soul mates.

It started after getting married. Previous to that I had never been considered overweight, but I can assure you that I have NEVER been accused of being a beanpole. When Mr. S and I married, I was a size 6 (of course, that was after the ever famous 'starve yourself two months before the wedding' diet). Within 2 years I added a 1 in the tens place of that size number. There were several times I lost 10 pounds here, 10 pounds there, but it wasn't until New Years of 2006 that I realized my quick climb up to a final size 22 was my call to Jesus (especially as I learned how it would effect my fertility). Over the next year and a half, I busted my ass and was back down to a 6 (which translated to 90+ pounds). Truly though, maintenance is much harder than weight loss and the following years certainly proved that.

After having lost that weight, I promised myself that I would not let myself slip again, but then pregnancy happened and moreover, I really, really let it happen. In fact, I gained 10-15 pounds in my first pregnancy alone, one that lasted only 10 weeks. Of course, the grief of loss also added to that. Then, my IVF and my subsequent pregnancy with G came around and I happily basked in the idea of flooding my beloved child with as many calories as he could muster. I'm not exactly certain what my final weight gain was, but if I had to take a guess, I would say that upon entering the hospital to deliver, I was probably close to 65 pounds heavier than I was walking into the transfer.

If there's one thing I'm better at than weight loss, it's weight gain. Wouldn't you say?

Surprisingly, I had textbook perfect blood pressure and no gestational diabetes to speak of during my pregnancy, so with that knowledge, I made a date with the local ice cream parlor almost nightly. So here I sit with the aftermath (praying the little one stays asleep for just 5 more minutes--let me finish this blog at least!) 35 pounds away from my pre-IVF weight and 45 pounds away from a more comfortable weight, one that I can at least live with. I've been a bad girl and penance is due.

I know, people hardly ever stick to New Year's resolutions involving weight loss, but somehow it has worked for me. That and the fact that I need to somehow squeeze my meaty carcass into a bathing suit come June and also have lofty aspirations to become a minor league MILF. Ok, maybe not that last part, but in the very least, to become healthier and set a better example for my little one.

Will I make it to my goal? Well, as my Mom used to say, if you want something badly enough, it'll happen. Just as with every other time, I want this badly. Unlike infertility, this is within my control and if my yo-yo history has taught me anything, it is the difference between my feelings as someone who is obese versus someone who is not. I'll take a helping of the latter, please.