I was so fit before I got pregnant. I worked my body to a state I never had before, I was strong and felt good and had energy. I got myself to the goal I had set for myself, that the doctor told me was a good place to be at for IVF to work. I lost 55 lbs in order to do that. It was torture at first, I hated depriving myself of food to maintain a certain calorie count every day. I hated the energy I had to put forth to burn calories. But over time, as I saw results, I felt great, and it got more and more fun. To the point I began wanting to do more and looking forward to it. I even got into the gym for an early morning workout the day of my embryo transfer, man did it feel good, mentally and physically. But then I had the transfer and I was on bed rest for 4 days. I didn’t want to move, fearful I would shake the baby embryo out of me. I was cautious with every step, not bouncing or walking too fast. Not wanting to bend over in case it caused my stomach muscles to expel her out of me. I know, it’s pure ridiculousness, but so much goes into it, your soul feels like it’s at stake. Once I got the positive pregnancy test I became even more sloth-like, refusing to do any physical work at my job. Not doing anything physical at home, all based on fears of losing my precious cargo. I noticed aches and pains coming back, and I noticed my lack of concern for what I was eating. Every time I would go to the doctor, you know, they make you step on the scale, to make you feel like an extra-large fry. I always preface my hopping up there with a quick, ‘please don’t tell me how much I weigh, I prefer not to know until the end of my pregnancy, so I don’t get depressed’ followed with a nervous laugh and that was that. Of course it was hard to move or get up, I mean, you have what can only be described as a soccer ball hanging out under many layers of added insulation for little peanut. Making sitting, laying, standing, or even squatting/kneeling or just living, difficult. So trying to hide under the guise of pregnancy only goes so far when your ass seems to be on an echo delay every time you walk. But, as promised, I stepped on the scale the morning of my c-section and I just about fell off the scale. Not only did I gain the most weight I have ever gained in a pregnancy, BUT, I gained almost 100 lbs!!! I was a whopping 93.5 lbs heavier than when I started. Holy shit. It was in that moment all I could think was ‘what the hell have I done?’.
Long road ahead seems contrite knowing the pathway back and having done it a million times before. But after baby got here and my blood pressure leveled out, I gave myself 6 weeks of postpartum bliss in eating whatever my heart desires, I mean, I did just have a baby after all, I deserve it, right? Well, I did lose weight, subsequently, with the baby NOT being on the inside anymore, hahahahaha. But not much. I lost 30 lbs without even trying the first 4 weeks of coming home from the hospital. But that slowly crept back up and down for the remaining weeks. After 6 weeks, I began eating better but wasn’t really ready to get back to working out. Week 7, I fell off. ‘I’ll start up again on Monday’ I told myself, as we all do, like broken records of the dieting world. Week 8, I was gung-ho and ready to take this diet by the horns. I was solid and even went back to the pool to swim laps like I love doing so much. Until a small tragedy occurred at the pool. I’ll start from the beginning, because, everyone loves a good mini-series….
When I go to the pool, which I have been doing for most of my adult life to swim laps, I wear goggles. I get myself into my bathing suit, spritz some anti-fog into my goggles and let it sit while I finish getting ready to get into the pool. Then, as I’m walking out to the deck, I dry them with my towel. Dive into the deep end of the pool and do a quick rinse of the goggles and press them into my face and get moving. Never.ever.had.one.issue. Until I switched the routine. So this time, week 8 postpartum, I got into my suit, I spritzed the anti-fog into my goggles, without spritzing any crusties off first (since I hadn’t swam in almost 1 year). I dried them off, like always, and I hopped in the shower. I know, I know, you are always supposed to shower (with soap) before you get into the pool, but I never did. I’m guilty of that. But, now, I know the pool staff are being crazy strict about it and making you go back and shower if you aren’t wet when you enter the pool area. So, since my face was already wet from my shower, I just went right ahead and put my goggles directly on my face, without rinsing them out, because the suction was okay from my wet face. About two laps into my swim, I noticed stinging in my right eye, but figured chlorine somehow got into my goggle and I was going to have to deal with it. I pushed through the pain, even though it stung and my eyesight was fuzzy. It took me longer than I hoped to finish a mile, and at 55 minutes, I was relieved to take off my goggles and rinse off my eye. Only to be in excruciating pain and have complete loss of vision in my right eye. I had no idea what had happened, but I had to get help. I staggered back to the locker room and thought I should sit in the sauna for a minute to regroup. Maybe I just needed to sit and let my vision come back, but that was a no go. It just got worse, and now I feel like I’m going to vomit because my equilibrium is all off. I stumbled to my locker in a complete panic, hoping no one is noticing my craziness. I put my sunglasses on grasping my right eye (after I’m all dressed, of course, lol) and lose no time while running to my van. I called Joe to tell him I’m in distress and he tells me not to drive. But I’m in so much pain I can’t wait. I begin driving home, in what I can describe as a drive that had to be led by my guardian angel, because I was screaming in pain the entire way and prying my right eye open with my right hand, because my eye was twitching and my eyelid was having muscle spasms forcing me to close me eyes. Not good while driving 80 mph on the freeway. I think I made record breaking time getting home in 15 minutes, when it’s normally a 25 minute drive. I was in the shower screaming in pain all night…no sleep for me. Until morning came and I forced Joe to take me to the emergency room. They determined I got a mild chemical burn on my cornea, and the discomfort led to me rubbing so vigorously I inadvertently tore my cornea in the process…directly in the center field of vision, which is why I lost vision in that eye. It was worse pain than my c-section and I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone. They actually gave me some pretty hard narcotics at the ER, and I swear to God, those little heavenly pills didn’t even touch the pain. Not even a little bit.
So, there’s where week 8 became derailed. And the train has wanted to leave the station again, but without the motivation, it seems impossible. I couldn’t actually get in the pool and swim laps again until my eye completely healed. And it took weeks, I mean, literally, blurry vision for 5 weeks after that. And then I begin the torture of telling myself, I’ll start on Monday. No, really, this Monday for sure….and then a donut magically hops into my mouth, and then, because I just ruined it with the donut, a pizza won’t hurt either. And then it’s gone. Dead and gone.
But then my mom called me and offered to watch the baby while I go swim. I can’t say no. I mean, this is what I WANTED to do. But, it’s not Monday. I guess I’m starting today. Well, you gotta start sometime right? I dread every second getting to the gym. Not wanting to get undressed and put on my bathing suit (that is toooooooo tight I might add), not wanting to tempt fate with that stupid anti-fog and the goggles, not wanting to be cold and get wet, and really not wanting to work, or be hungry today. But it’s time. It’s time to shed the 93.5 lbs this pregnancy gave me the excuse to gain.
As I was walking into the gym, I couldn’t help but notice a woman in her 60’s probably, walking with a walker. I thought to myself, as I sped past her, on my able-bodied legs and feet, how much that will be me if I don’t shed this weight now. I’m already struggling with major pains in my feet, knees, back and all my joints. I can’t be 40 years old and struggling to bend over, like I am now. It kept me motivated to keep going, knowing how good I will feel when I lose some weight. I felt great after my swim, and went to Subway to have a sub by myself, and it felt good to be able to say I’m back in, even it I did start on a Tuesday.
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