Remember the time when you could eat McDonald’s chicken nuggets three times a week and Baskin-Robbins ice cream cake for dessert and not gain a single ounce? Or maybe for you, it was some other delicious vice but you know what I mean, right?
I’ve never been a skinny girl, but in the three years since having my kids, I have become morbidly obese.
Being fat has negatively impacted almost every aspect of my life. I know that I need to be sensitive to others and that fat shaming is not a good thing but my truth is that I am ashamed of my weight. I don’t feel good or comfortable in my own skin and that is the most honest thing I can say right now.
When I became pregnant with my first child, I was as lean as I had been in my adult life and felt great. Fun fact – I was actually pregnant when I ran the Nike Women’s 1/2 Marathon and just didn’t know it yet. Anyway, I didn’t really pay close attention to the weight that I was gaining while pregnant. The problem was that I basically took it for granted that being pregnant was my ticket to not have to worry about what I was eating. I also had bleeding throughout my entire pregnancy and so other than prenatal yoga, I had stopped exercising.
After gaining about 55 pounds with my first pregnancy, I delivered a baby who was about 7.5 pounds. I wasn’t super worried because everyone told me that if you breastfeed the weight will just magically melt away. TOTAL LIE. At least in my case. Clayton self-weened at about 9 months and by that time I had only lost about 10 pounds and was already pregnant with baby #2.
My second child arrived a week before my 40th birthday and I was determined to get my body back on track. But despite my efforts over two years, including rigorous training and running in another 1/2 Marathon and trying various nutritional changes, my weight was just not coming off and I was starting to become depressed.
The Scale Just Wasn’t Moving
The more upset I was about my weight, the more I would find myself doing self-destructive things like hiding boxes of Ding Dongs in the pantry so I could binge when the mood struck. I started withdrawing more and more physically from my husband because the thought of him touching my rolls made me cringe in humiliation. I lived in my pregnancy yoga pants because the thought of having to purchase plus sized clothing made me want to cry and because I was only wearing yoga pants I started to stop being social.
During this time I was pouring myself into my photography business and preaching to others the importance of getting in the frame with their kids all the while refusing to practice this myself.
My back hurt, my neck started having crazy flair ups of pain, I developed plantar fasciitis in BOTH feet on top of a bunion that was making it difficult to get out of bed (let alone walk or work out). I was sick more days during this time than I had been over the previous twenty years combined. I had spent THOUSANDS of dollars on various supplements, work out programs, etc without seeing the results I so desperately longed for.
And then, if you can believe it, things got worse….before they got started getting better.
I’ll be sharing Part II of my story next week so if you want to make sure that you don’t miss it, submit your email below and it will be delivered right to your inbox as soon as it’s up!