This is part 2 of how I got fat. If you missed the beginning of the story you may want to get caught up.
I was just catching my groove on the whole working out thing. And by “catching my groove” I mean I hadn’t missed an appointment with my personal trainer in two weeks. Maybe three. I’ll give myself the benefit of the doubt here. You may remember this was about the time my husband and I decided to start our family. Much to my surprise, I was pretty damn fertile.
We both really wanted to have a baby and I realize how incredibly fortunate we were to get pregnant pretty much right away. That, however, did not take away from the utter shock of that positive pregnancy test. And the other four that followed (in the next 10 minutes). I made my doctor’s appointment right away and yep, there was in fact a little bun in the oven. Also, according to my doctor, I was a little short for my weight. He told me I’d have to be careful with putting weight on since I was already considered “overweight”. Thankfully it was only by a few pounds (if I remember correctly I was 155 or so and I’m 5’4), but seriously, who wants to hear that crap? And, it’s not like I could start dieting then anyway. But I did decide I would still go to the gym. I vowed to myself that when I delivered I would have really buff arms and perfectly pedicured feet. I went to approximately two aerobics classes and the only sport I did after that was eating. My feet, however, looked fabulous on delivery day!
I left the doctor’s office and headed straight to the first Wendy’s drive thru I could find. I was a hot mess and hadn’t been able to get in touch with my husband. (I think I had paged him. Hello, it was 2000!) I ordered a salad (of the taco variety). Hey, I was eating for two so I was being healthy. (This was before I knew a taco salad wasn’t actually healthy.) I also ordered a large Frosty. For the calcium, of course. (I’m not even sure those are actually milk based to be honest with you.) This was just the beginning of my pregnancy melt down. Oh, and I was approximately five weeks pregnant at this point.
There were many, many binges during this pregnancy. And the food wasn’t just craptastic. I was a freaking maniac and would eat anything I could get my hands on. I remember laying on my bathroom floor crying in shame because I had just eaten five bananas. I was hormonal and clearly unstable. The good news was, my pregnancy was a breeze and I absolutely LOVED being pregnant.
Toward the end of my pregnancy our 15 year old nephew, Chris, started staying with us to take care of our dogs when I went into the hospital. I had also already began my maternity leave because I was too fat to work. Okay, that’s not really true. But the simple act of blow drying my hair literally winded me. The walk from my car to my office was exhausting. It was summer time and you don’t even want to know about all the sweating. UGH! Plus, there was food to be eaten. I was far too distracted for working. So, instead, my nephew and I went to Golden Corral every day for lunch while my husband worked. We would see who could eat the most. If you have ever seen a 15 year old boy eat, you know how absolutely ridiculous that is. I gained 10 pounds in my 8th month. Yep, ten. Iwas wearing XXL maternity clothes. DOUBLE EXTRA LARGE! Holy fatness!
Two days before I delivered our daughter, I weighed 201 pounds. Two hundred and one pounds. I weighed the same as my husband (who had also gained the required “sympathy weight”). You know that gross, blubbery, snotty cry that people do? Yeah, I totally did that. And then went to lunch at Golden Corral. I fully expected someone to come out of the back and yell, “YOU GO HOME NOW!”. They never did. And we kept eating. And eating!
I told myself after the baby was born it would be on like Donkey Kong. She was born in August 2001….