I'm sure you've read stories about weight loss "journies" that's what we like to call it, our "journey"...I guess it's because that's really what it is...it's a trek, it's a wild ride, it's constant ups and downs and wanting to quit and wanting to keep pushing. I suppose a better name for it would be a roller coaster...but, nobody would find that to be too encouraging...oh, yeah, let me take you on an emotional and physical roller coaster...sounds like fun, right? Nope. So, we so eloquently rename it our "Journey"... Well, here's mine:
I graduated college in 2006, ironically enough, the same year I met my now husband. I was around 160 lbs. at 5' 6", with a slightly muscular build, that's pretty lean. I wore a size 6/8 in women's pants and my diet consisted of primarily cigarettes and coffee during the day when I was in class and work, and when I cooked at night, I found about 487 ways to jazz up tomato soup. Classy, huh??
Anyway.
I met my husband right after graduation, and as the years built on to our relationship, I gained what most people would call "comfort weight"...fast forward to my wedding day, and I'm at about 185 and wearing a size 10. I'm still pretty comfortable with my size and weight, especially since I landed my man, and I wanted to have kids ASAP...which I did. Our 1 year anniversary was a sober one because I was pregnant with our fist son. I wound up gaining a whopping 40 lbs with him...FORTY...I'm now up to 225 lbs. Needless to say my doctor wasn't too happy with those numbers. I was determined to lose it all. I started off strong! Down 25 lbs! Screech....halt! Pregnant, again! I found out I was pregnant, again, right before my son turned 1. We had started announcing it earlier than we did with the first because we were excited. Then, a couple weeks later...a small tragedy. I suffered a miscarriage. Only about 2 months along, but, a small piece of me died along with that baby. We named him or her Jaime and attempted to move on with our lives. I bet you didn't realize you can suffer from postpartum depression after a miscarriage...and I did. Who could focus on losing weight after something so sad? Not this lady.
So, there I was...heavier than I'd ever been, depressed and my marriage was suffering. I'm lucky my son was so small and didn't know the difference because I'm sure he would have suffered, too.
A few months later, I get pregnant, again! We're cautious not to announce it, and we wind up with a beautiful baby boy! Our rainbow baby! With that pregnancy I gained 25 and then lost 40! Yay! Oh, but, I was also diagnosed with Hypotyroidism. Nice. Makes your metabolism slow as molasses in the wintertime...among other things, but, you could imagine how awesome it was to have that "minor" setback...anyway, I was back to my wedding weight! Back in my size 10s! I'm nursing and the weight is shedding! 4 months in: whammo! Pregnant, again! Oofa! When does this fertile myrtle take a break?? Never, I guess!
Gained 30 lbs with my daughter. And after I had her, I couldn't even think of losing weight...my eldest was in speech therapy 2 times a week, and the three of them were so demanding, I could barely find time to do anything...
Then....another small tragedy: my husband lost his job. Now, I'm a stay at home mom. We worked on the weekends with an adult sports league and that made up some great income, but, certainly not enough to supplement my husband's entire salary....we did what we needed to do...we bunkered down, ate lousy food because it was cheap...we didn't qualify for food stamps, bc that would have obviously helped out in buying food that was more nutritious than hamburger helper (ugh! I cringe when j think about the crap I used to put in my body).
I felt awful, my body hated me. I don't blame it...I hated me, too.
My husband ultimately found another job. A job he loves and is good, nay, great at! So, really, everything happens for a reason...
So, now...here I am, I have hit rock bottom. I hate the way I look. I am steadily growing out of my clothes. I'm 207.5 lbs, and a size 14. I needed to change something. And I say I hit rock bottom because I believe that people only really start to get serious about changing their habits when they have hit rock bottom. I was there. I began to work out, track my calories on my fitness pal, and I started to feel good, again. My progress was slow, but, it was progress...so who cares?! I'm down 18 lbs! 189...and slowly going down... BAM! Pregnant, again.
Whoops!
My OB warned me that a 4th c section and a 5th pregnancy in 4 years would reek havoc on my uterus. It could rupture, ultimately killing me and perhaps my unborn child. Scary. Talk about below rock bottom. I've always wanted a big family, so, a 4th child didn't scare me. What do I do? Okay. I got this. I was introduced to Beachbody and didn't think much of it until I had to make sure I didn't gain a lot of weight during my pregnancy. So, here I go. My OB didn't approve shakeology for me, given my history of complications and preterm labor. 21 day fix, let's do this!
I gained 20 lbs. that's it! My doc was so happy with my weight gain (or, lack thereof) and I knew this was for me. After I had my son, I hit the ground running, once, again...this time with shakeology! Holy moly. Not only did my doctor look at my scar in amazement at my 6 week check up, but she told me I was amazing, and that my uterus looked as healthy as it did before I had kids! It's amazing what eating clean can do for your body, inside and out!
So, here I am...down to 166 lbs...a size 6, and determined to keep going.
That's it. That's my story. Maybe a little drawn out. Maybe I forgot a few details...but, that's how I remember it, and that's what rings in the back of my mind when I feel like giving up...
Many people will turn up their noses at your "journey" maybe because it's a term used so often these days...who knows...but, next time you hear about someone's journey, think of how much work went into getting where they are...they're not bragging for the sake of showing you how you should be living...they're simply sharing with the world how proud they are of themselves and are finally confident enough to show you their struggles and leave themselves vulnerable to your criticism. Be kind. A journey is just that. It's a trek through what feels like hell and back. It's hard, and worth it. It's climbing up mountains laced with chocolate and sugar. It's trekking through vallies of beer and buffalo wings...soda and ice cream...it's resisting because you're not willing to set yourself back after all the work you've already put in. But, most of all, it's your badge of honor. To show the work you've done, all you've accomplished, and the promise you've made to yourself and your loved ones...that you're going to be the best "you" you can be. And your body will thank you for it.
Seriously.
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