Growing up I was always very tiny, both in stature and circumference. I was a picky eater and my favorite foods were carbs and junk. I barely ate vegetables until I was 21 and I still only like fruit if it’s in a smoothie (and even then, only particular ones). Because of my poor eating habits, my mom was satisfied with getting anything into me, even if that meant donuts for breakfast (or occasionally even packages of Reese peanut butter cups). Luckily I had a phenomenol metabolism and stayed super tiny; at times I’d even be classified as underweight.
In my senior year of high school, my metabolism faltered a bit and I put on some weight. I began to feel chubby, and I certainly was in comparison to my old size, but in actuality it probably wasn’t so bad. This started my yo-yo dieting habits. Being such a picky eater, I wasn’t one to turn to healthy alternatives like salads (I didn’t even eat my first one until I was 21). So I did a lot of calorie counting and restricting, along with some working out (though I loathe formal exercise). But eventually I’d get sick of restricting myself and the weight would come back on. Sometimes it seemed redistributed, which I attributed to new muscle mass, but I was still a slave to my scale. After my undergrad, I got quite tiny again and then I met J. He told me he’d love me even if I gained 20 lbs. I think it was a random number he just threw out there one day when I worried about a few pounds gained, but once I surpassed the extra 20 lbs I got a little worried. I don’t think he loves me any less, but I’m more woman than I was when he first fell in love with me.
In preparation for our wedding, I started eating healthier and doing Turbo Jam DVDs and Zumba classes and I also got a personal trainer. I managed to drop 15 lbs from what had been my heaviest. After the wedding and honeymoon, I easily put 5 back on and then another 2 over the course of a few months, but I managed to stay a fairly good size. Then work got really busy and stressful and all I had the time or energy for was fast food. So I went back up to my heaviest. For some reason my heaviest always seems to coincide with when I am a bridesmaid (3 times and counting . . . .). Then, just as I was getting really down on myself and fed up to the point where I needed to do something about it again, J mentioned an interest in P90X. It was perfect – we would motivate each other to keep going and we’d get in shape for our upcoming trip to Jamaica. I saw all the before and after pics and hoped I’d get back down to wedding weight or better. For someone who hates exercise, P90X is killer. But I impressed myself and continued for a whole month. We even started eating low carb (which interestingly coincides with the time that doctors think J’s immune system might have begun failing him, thereby leading to type 1 diabetes). I managed to lose about 10 lbs and I was doing more weight training than I had done previously so I’d like to believe that some of my fat was redistributed to muscle. J gave up on P90X about a week before I did. Then about a week before the trip, I couldn’t take it anymore and of course at an all-inclusive in Jamaica I certainly wasn’t about to hold back on food or alcohol.
Jamaica was in February 2011 and I haven’t really worked out since then and ever since we started TTC, I told myself that I can’t diet (restricted calorie intake is counterproductive for getting pregnant) and I shouldn’t start a new exercise routine lest I cause a miscarriage. I actually keep telling myself that I should work out once I get my period so that way I know I’m not pregnant and hopefully my body would be used to it by the time I might be pregnant, but it hasn’t happened yet. This year work has been quite stressful and I also feel like a sardine packed into my overcrowded office, so a trip to the mall food court is my escape. Because I have been eating whatever I want and not exercising, I have resisted my scale for the most part. I figured what was the point of finding out if there was “nothing” I could do about it (excuses, excuses . . .). I finally stepped on the scale a couple months back and I was about 2 lbs over my heaviest. I was not pleased, but I started drinking more water, something I was definitely in need of, and I went back down below my heaviest quickly.
Lately I have been feeling heavy around my middle, which used to always be my pride. In profile, I felt like I could even pass for about 4 months pregnant on some days. Well, today I jumped on the scale fearing the “worst” and then surpassing it. My eyes bugged out and my jaw litterally dropped. I was way above my heaviest and quickly approaching a number I thought I would NEVER see unless I was pregnant. I am short, so a little extra weight goes a long way too. It was a shock and (hopefully) a wake up call. I talked to one of my coworkers who has become a good friend a bit about it and she said she had been feeling the same way. Because we often go out to eat together, we said that we need to motivate each other to not go so much. Sadly, we went about 3-4 times a week and so now our goals is 2 times a week. It’s not ideal, but it’s a start. My other goal and a commitment I need to make to myself is to make healthier choices in my fast food. I could easily go for wraps and salads instead of greasy fries and chicken fingers, so that’s what I need to do. Here’s hoping I can reduce this little faux bump before it’s a baby bump – I wouldn’t want to confuse anyone!