Losing Weight Is Worth It posted 10/20/2007 10:08:15 PM | 1 kudo what's this?     report abuse tagged: weight loss, health, self, image

MonkeyWoman29

Things are still crazy here at the old homestead... It's a never ending saga of diapers and wipes... baby formula and frozen chicken nuggets. It's the best time of my life, I will admit. I never thought I'd have any kids. I certainly never thought I'd be married for nine years to a wonderful man. I certainly never ever thought I'd have TWO kids, after everything I went through just to get one. I am in a big happy, sleepy, stressful. tiring. funny, sweet, golden bubble that not even the sharpest pin can pop.

On to the point at hand. I really packed on the pounds about a year into my marriage. I started working third shift at a fueling station and eating whatever crap was available to me there. It wasn't long before I had put on over seventy pounds. When I got pregnant with B, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I had to control it with insulin and a low carb diet. I did everything the doctors told me to and she popped out the picture of health, and by the time I had her I was twenty pounds lighter than before. I continued to lose weight for a bit, then the frozen chicken nugget monster, the ice cream monster, and the new fry daddy I got for Christmas reared it's ugly head and I had gained it all back by the time she was a year and a half old. Discouraging, yes. Did I feel bad about my appearance? Not particularly. I've always been attracted to larger women. Even when I wasn't one. Did I feel bad in general? Yes. My energy level plummeted. Just the act of cleaning the house was enough to put out the lights for a long winter's nap. I began to work on it again, and by the time she was three, I'd lost eleven pounds. I felt better, yes I did look better, and was extremely happy to be back on the trail downward.

I got pregnant with a baby that we lost. It was an ectopic pregnancy and they had to remove my tube and gave us a twenty percent chance of getting pregnant again because my other tube was extremely scarred as well. In fact, they told me to expect another tubal pregnancy if I tested positive again. I've always been what they call an emotional eater. So I went home and broke out the fry Daddy. Gained all eleven pounds back. Eleven pounds may not sound like so much to some, but I was proud of myself for trying to get back on the road to health. I got into therapy and talked a lot about my feelings. The more I opened my mouth to talk, however, the more I opened it to eat.

Scratch that. New plan. I signed up to go to school and get my CNA. I thought since I was only going to have one child that I would go out and get myself a real job, put her into the best preschool ever, save up money for the Ivy League (in case she didn't get a scholarship of course. What? She is going to Ivy league! LOL) And, in general, spoil her flat rotten. Did well in the training. On the fourth day of my sixteen day express course I smelled Burger King from twelve miles away. And I knew I was pregnant. My sniffer has always been the first thing to tip me off as to the fact that I was carrying a new addition.

I stopped by CVS and went into the school bathroom and tested. Positive. Yay! Went to the doc and got the all clear. Heart beat at five and a half weeks. A strong little lad who is here today and is still a strong little lad and getting stronger. I was diagnosed with the Gestational again and dieted again. It wasn't nearly as bad this time for whatever reason; my sugar never got excessively high. Lost nearly thirty this time and I have continued to watch what I am eating and exercise as much as I can when I am not elbow deep in dirty diapers. I am almost up to forty pounds. Or should I say I am almost down forty pounds.

I was cleared to go back to work, so I went into the next town over and applied for the real job I was talking about, you know, the one I got certified for. I was walking back to the parking garage in a new (nice) outfit I had to go out and buy for my interview they called me back for (Yay, please wish me luck!) - and I heard someone whistle. Whistle? Then I heard a cat call. I looked behind me to see if anyone was walking behind me. Nope. Just me. I looked right, left, in front of me. Nope. Still just me. Then I looked over and saw several buff and extremely good looking construction workers whistling in my direction. I know I should have been appalled and offended but honestly it's been a while since that happened and I was giddy with delight. Then some men in a paint truck passed and cat called in my direction as well. I'll be damned, I thought. Today's turning out to be a pretty good day.


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