I think I was a little cocky in thinking that I wouldn’t have to change much to lose weight. I thought that because I have so much to lose, that at first, it would just slide right off. I have lost a little over 2 pounds in the past month. It’s not so much sliding as oozing.
I have been eating better. I eat my salad for lunch most days and my eating at night has been cut down to only a night or two a week. But, as I’ve talked about before, eating proper serving sizes is really hard for me. I know it’s about re-training myself and just doing it every day.
I was thinking about when I put my weight on. In the past 6 years I have packed on about 90 pounds – 15 pounds per year. I can’t help but notice that it coincides with my becoming a mom. I’d been waiting and praying for children for over 10 years. Fertility treatments and artificial insemination didn’t work and adopting through an agency was taking such a long time. So we were trained as foster parents, hoping to adopt and we were blessed with the placement of a beautiful 13-year-old foster daughter and then, a few months later, with the cutest not-so-little 20 month old boy. There was a definite learning curve instantly parenting a half-grown child and a toddler. When our foster daughter (a supposed permanent placement), went back to live with her birth family, the stress and sadness over her leaving was overwhelming. During the process of her family making the required changes, I felt like I had to hold a lot of it in and be outwardly supportive of her choice, although I knew it would be so hard for her there. I also had boy #1 here who needed and deserved my best love and attention.
That’s when my night eating really got going. When the house was quiet and the kids were in bed, I ate my stress in my dinner leftovers. I downed my sadness with a bowl of ice cream. And I felt better for a little while. The routine turned to habit and here I am. The worst part (other than gaining the weight) is that the stress and sadness didn’t go away. I worked through nothing. I just buried it in food. Of course, pain can lessen with time. Stress comes and goes with life. My foster daughter and I are still in touch. She has chosen a rough road for herself. I love her just as much, but it has evolved to more a friendship than parental love.
Being a parent, as much as I love it, is the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Losing weight is an extremely close second. My challenge is to find a way to work out stress and other emotional situations (happening DAILY) that doesn’t involve food or taking it out on my family. Exercise is going to have to be a big part of that. I was hoping to lose more weight before I added in the exercise so I wouldn’t hurt so much, but it doesn’t look like that’s an option for me. I hope I can squeeze my poor swollen feet into my walking shoes.