Suzanne vs. the scale

09/28/2011 at 9:23 am | Posted in weight loss | 28 Comments
Tags: baby weight, weight loss

Well, here it is.

The post I never thought I’d write.

It’s too personal. Too embarrassing. And nearly everyone I know reads this blog (including people who see me on a regular basis at work or elsewhere).

But, it’s time.

I need to lose weight. My self-confidence is plummeting fast, and most of my clothes don’t fit (thank god for yoga pants).

Here’s where you come in: I need to be held accountable. I’ve tried this so many times by myself, but I usually hit a plateau and have a hard time staying motivated. Or I go and get pregnant and embark on nine months of binge-eating fried chicken and cupcakes.

So I figure if I write about it here, I’ll be forced to follow-up. To be honest and stay the course.

I’ve always been big. Not fat. Big.

And I’m mostly proud of it. I love being tall and athletic. I love that my heritage shows through my features. I love feeling strong, carrying my babies, pushing them out into the world. And now, lifting and chasing and loving on them.

But right now, I don’t love my weight. Or my belly.

You might hate me for saying this, but I’ve never had a belly. Even after giving birth to Lily, it shrunk right back (thanks to a steady diet of depression, anxiety and sleeplessness). But today? I weigh the same amount as the day I left the hospital with Lily. And that is a scary thing, y’all.

I overcompensated for breast-feeding all summer, figuring I could eat more because I was burning so many extra calories. And I’ll readily admit that I’ve maintained my carb-and-sugar pregnancy diet. I was so sick for most of my pregnancy that I ate only the things that sat well: bread, pasta, cookies, cupcakes, pizza, chicken biscuits. Lord, the chicken biscuits. It doesn’t help to work right down the street from Bojangles and to live around the corner from Chick-Fil-A.

Oy.

There’s also this: I’m an emotional eater. If I’ve had a bad day or a really good day, I feel like I deserve that huge sweet tea or that cookie the size of my face.

I’m not surprised to be in this situation. After four months of scrutinizing my diet at every single meal because everything I ate affected my baby, I felt deprived and angry. I gave up dairy, chocolate, any source of caffeine, any food that may possibly give Sophie gas or prevent her from sleeping. So those fatty foods I actually was allowed to eat? I ate A LOT of them. Vanilla sandwich cookies by the sleeve. And the aforementioned chicken biscuits.

But I’m ready for a change.

I bought a scale, started a food diary and officially swore off fast food (it’s a start). I’m trying to figure out an exercise plan. And I’m taking you along for the ride. Thanks in advance for bearing with me.

I want to lose 20 pounds by Sophie’s first birthday: May 7, 2012.

Here we go …