"If you don't lose the weight, you will die young."
"I know you want to be there for your child, but do you only want to be around for part of his life?"
"I can't tell you want to do, but I can tell you that there needs to be change."
What can one even say to that?
After being tossed around from doctor to doctor for most of my life unable to nail down a diagnosis, I finally met with a doctor who both diagnosed me properly and wants to treat me properly. Both of which I wanted.
Honestly, I thought that a diagnosis and some pills were going to fix everything. Wrong, as proven by the quotes from yesterday's appointment.
Sure, I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) and Hypothyroidism. That does not change the fact that I need to lose weight. It does, however, make the task much more difficult.
I have dieted or watched my food intake or even done some more drastic measures (that's another blog post) for the majority of my life. I have yo-yo'd more than a Duncan factory. I work and work and seem to get nowhere fast. I like instant gratification, and anyone who's dealing with obesity knows that there is no instant (and lasting) gratification in weight loss.
After crying like a baby at the appointment, I realized that it was a hard slap in the face that I desperately needed. I claim to do everything I can do, but let me be honest with you for a second. I like carbs and I hate exercise. I know what you are thinking. "Surprise, surprise, the fat girl loves to eat and be sedentary, but also loves to whine about it."
I now realize I need to make a lifestyle change. Where do I go from here?
The doctor recommended two options:
- An up-front pricey intensive weight loss program, like this one offered by a local hospital.
- Bariatric surgery, insisting that I would qualify and the insurance will more than likely pay for it.
My mind is blank at this point. I'm still getting the hang of liking my husband again. Every day brings something new with my two-and-a-half year old. Work is steady and consistent. Why does life have to throw a wrench into this? I am finally coming up with a schedule that fits my life.
I see people half my size workout half as much and eat twice as much and do not have to consistently struggle. It boggles my mind how much work I have to put into this. It's like another full-time job only it messes with my mind. I can't go into a grocery store, a restaurant, a clothing store, a mall without thinking of numbers.
Clothing sizes, calories, pounds, fat grams, serving sizes, inches, grams of fiber...these numbers float through my head so consistently I know them as well as my own phone number.
I know I need to change, but why does it have to be so difficult?
Needless to say, I opted for choice #1. I do not want to have bariatric surgery unless it is absolutely necessary. I still have options, which excludes bariatric surgery as an option.
I start the program February 16. I will learn how to eat and exercise properly and for the long haul. I hope it does so while helping me to still enjoy life. It's a year-long program that will take a lot of work. I will need love and support and prayers along the way. I know that I have this in my life.
Even with a positive attitude, there is still a wrench thrown into my plans. If you know me, you know I thrive on schedules, lists, and plans. To-Do Lists are my friend. There is nothing quite like scratching that last thing on your list, just to make another. Just as much as I like my schedules, plans and lists, I do not like them messed with.
The wrench is that Blake and I wanted to start trying for another child in the summer. It's been part of our plans for awhile now. Yes we throw back and forth whether we can handle another, but quite honestly, find me one parent who, in the middle of a tantrum or meltdown, doubts their abilities. We do want Cristian to be a big brother and we do want another little one.
What's the problem, you ask? A pregnancy at this point is not feasible. Not with the PCOS. Not with the hypothyroidism. Not with my body working against me. The doctor basically said that I was lucky with my first pregnancy and I shouldn't take my chances on a second one right now. I need to get myself into check before another.
Sure, no problem, wait. I didn't want our children to be so far apart in years. Growing up, I always wanted kids two years apart, just like my brother and I. When I had my first child, I became more realistic. We then figured that around four years would be okay. Now, we're looking closer to six.
My mind has been spinning for the past twenty-four hours. I have been sullen and mopey. Listening to the radio, a song came on that yelled at me. SNAP OUT OF IT! THINGS WILL BE ALRIGHT! WHAT IS MEANT TO BE WILL BE!
You can probably tell that from my love of schedules, lists and plans that I can be
a bit a control freak. But for as faithful as I claim to be, I do not let things just happen enough. That changes now. I'm going to go with the flow. I am going to let things happen as they are meant to be. God is the master planner, not me. I think I'm in control, but He really is.
Right now, he's telling me that it's alright, and it'll be alright again. If I do not take care of myself, I will not be around for the child I have let alone another. It's not about being years apart, it's about being raised with love. It's not about having to do work, it's about getting the most you can out of a situation by putting in the most you can. I have never strayed away from hard work before, so why should I do it now?
As one of my favorite musical artists, Sugarland say...
"Sometimes you gotta lose 'til you win."
Riddle Me This...
- How do you handle things not going your way?
- Have you ever been verbally slapped in the face?
- Are you a