When I started this weight loss journey I was very focused on the numbers. I couldn't believe I had gained over 50lbs during my pregnancy. I was upset that I wasn't losing weight faster. I was angry that my prepregnancy jeans still didn't fit 4 months out. I compared myself to my friends who were losing weight so quickly it seemed. And yet, I was making every excuse possible why I needed to keep eating junk and lots of it. I had an excuse as to why I couldn't work out. I had multiple excuses why I gained so much weight and blamed a lot of that weight on the weight I gained prior to getting pregnant.
You see, the thing was, we had trouble getting pregnant. When we started trying we didn't tell anyone. I had this irrational fear it wouldn't happen for us and I didn't want anyone to know we were trying in case it didn't. And when it finally did, my husband spilled the beans without talking to me. We had a miscarriage. I was devastated. A few months later, we got pregnant again. This time he was a little more guarded. Again, we had a miscarriage. More devastation. Finally, two years (and 20lbs) after we started really trying we got pregnant and it stuck. We have a beautiful baby boy.
I had a pretty healthy pregnancy but every doctors appointment I would be so worried that it would be that time they wouldn't hear a heart beat. Even during birth I feared more that something would be wrong with the baby than that it would be painful, difficult, or long. The night he was born he had to be moved to the special care nursery because his oxygen level and blood sugar was low and he had some signs of an infection. I thought okay, this is it. This is the terrible thing I have been waiting for. And then the next day his heart raced to 270 beats per minute and they told us he had to be transferred to Boston Children's Hospital for further evaluation. He was transported by ambulance by a special team and we drove separately. I thought again, okay this is it. This is the scary, awful thing I have been fearing. I just knew something I did had caused all of this. They ran their tests, we found we could function with less sleep than I had in gotten in college, and we got answers. He was diagnosed with SVT and has to be on medication. But his condition is manageable and probably even something he will grow out of.
Even now, I still find myself holding my breath when I check on him during his nap to make sure he is still breathing. Or listening to his heartbeat compulsively with the stethoscope just in case even though he hasn't had an event since the very first. But I still clung to this idea that I had done something to cause my son to be born with this condition. Something I did during pregnancy caused his heart to have this extra flap of skin that resends the electrical impulses. I was sure God was punishing me for something I had done. I could think of a million and one things I had done in college making choices like tomorrow didn't matter and people didn't matter. Living a life that wasn't authentic to who I am as a person. Or even minor indiscretions as a teen, staying out late or lying to my dad (don't worry dad, that was very rare!). I clung so hard and fast to this notion, I wasn't taking care of myself because I didn't feel I was worthy of that care. I needed to focus every ounce of my being on my son. And while he was and is worthy of that devotion, it doesn't serve him, it doesn't serve our family, and it really is unnecessary.
This stress, this worry about what I had done spilled over into the care I was giving myself. I didn't have time for it. I was of course a new mom learning the ropes with little sleep and hardly a second to shower let alone work out. But I realized the more independent he was becoming (as independent as an infant can be), the more excuses I was making for my lack of self care. I was filling the free time I did have with junk TV and crappy food. I was suffering and my home was suffering.
The mistakes of my past left me feeling like I wasn't worthy of the hope and success of my future.
And then a friend reached out to me. I've already shared that story
here, how I got started, the awesome results I saw, how excited I was to become a coach and start helping others. But what I didn't really share is what it did for my insides. I'm not 75 days into this journey. I've continued to see results on the scale, in my clothes, in the inches. I've seen results in the numbers. I've lost a total of 18lbs and over 30 inches. I'm back in most of my prepregnancy pants. I've lost the baby weight and am not working on the prebaby weight. But it has been so much more than that for me. I've started running again, something I love and was afraid to do. I didn't want to try because I knew I would be slow again and have to build my mileage back up. I'm almost up to 3 miles, still about 10 short of where I'd like my long runs to be. But, the fear isn't there anymore. I am excited to get out and run every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. I've shaved time off, but I'm still pretty slow. But I stopped worrying about what the other runners would think and realized they think what I think...awesome, another runner out here, head nod! For the first time in my life I did 2 sets of 10 regular pushups before I had to go to my knees! That was a huge win for me. I've made all of these physical improvements but I also improved my soul.
I said to another coach, a mentor coach, that I was struggling with my story, I didn't know if it was a story worth telling or a story anyone would want to hear. She had some awesome encouraging words that made me feel better, but I still was fearful. I started working with my first challenge group and in a very short time saw some challengers have amazing results and grow so very much. It was that growth that proved to me I was exactly where I needed to be. I was actually helping people. My story, my journey was touching them and motivating them to start their own. They were trusting me and letting me into their lives, a gift so precious I can't even begin to explain it. They were finding strength within themselves and pride through their hard work that I think some of them had forgotten about. I am empowering people I care about. I am finding passion in something I never would have guessed. I am forgiving myself and accepting the forgiveness I was long ago given.
I decided not to include any transformation pictures in this post because right now, it really isn't about my before and after. I am still on my journey. I am making progress. But its not about the numbers. I am not just numbers. You are not just numbers. If you are on your own journey and looking for help or maybe you haven't yet started that journey because you don't know where to start, I would be honored to reach out and give you a hand like someone gave to me. And maybe you aren't quite ready, but I want you to know I will be here when you are. Maybe you are just scared, know I was scared too. Maybe you are afraid of failure. Yep, that was me too. I truly believe that together we can help you reach your goals. Be brave!
