When I thought about this week's theme, I was thinking maybe pictures of the kids at the park - you know - us OUT for the day.
Well, then something happened this morning. Something AMAZING! Hope is restored, all is not lost.
For those of you not there this morning, I'll back up.
I'm what my doctor likes to call "sub-fertile". I have two bio daughters, but it took us SIX YEARS to conceive our second. It was unexplained secondary infertility.
However, one of the things that seems to be part of the key is my weight. I've never been pregnant above a certain number, but I've been pregnant three times under it (one in heaven). So, I'm thinking that probably plays a partial to significant role. Well, we're eagerly awaiting another gift from God, and on July 26th, I decided I needed to be doing more to take care of the vessel.....that being me.
Weight has always been a struggle for me....that's a story a lot of us share. Well, two months ago today, I started a new workout program. I've done jogging in the past and have used the gym many a time on my own, but this time, I decided to go to a class. Every Tuesday and Thursday morning, I started getting up at 5:15 - slightly earlier than my usual 7ish. I would spend this time at the gym with 5-8 other women (sometimes a couple men) doing circuit training with weights.
It's the hardest program I've ever done. So hard it makes you romanticize labor. Every workout, there are exercises I can't really do that well, sometimes I have to modify things even to TRY to complete it. But I kept going. Even when it started to really really REALLY suck. When I wanted to sleep in, when my period made me feel sick, when I got a cold, I went.
If you think this is the story of how I lost 20lbs in 2 months, you're wrong. If you think it's the story of how I lost 10lbs in 2 months, you're wrong......5lbs? Not so much.
When I started this workout program, I was tipping the scales at my normal post-partum weight (Sweet Pea was 14 months...a little more than newborn!). Thankfully, I also measured myself before I started working out. I think maybe that and the women I work out with are all that kept me going. Well, that and it hurt so much to start, I live in fear of having to go through that initial phase again, so I don't stop.
In six weeks, I lost 8.5 inches....and I was up 3 lbs. Everyone stood around me, cheering me on and reassuring me that weight is just a number on a scale. Well, it is, until that number stands between you and fertility, then it's more than just a number; it's an obstacle to your hopes and dreams. It's the demon on your back telling you to quit, that it's not working. It's every bad thing you think about yourself when you're looking at the beautiful belly that brought life into this world.
Two weeks ago, I added a third day to my workout, Wednesday mornings. It's called Warrior ELITE, and this has scared me off of going until recently. The first time I went, everyone lapped me during warm-up. EVERYONE. It was a humiliating thing. But not one person there ever told me I was too slow or couldn't do it. Not one of those women blinked when my reps were slower than theirs. Every one of them has been a voice of encouragement. One of the women has lost 50 lbs in the last year doing these workouts. Sometimes the only thing that gets me there is her story.
Still, the last two weeks, I've been achy and tired. It's been hard not to feel defeated. So many voices are echoing not to give in to the number on the scale, but my doctor is going to use that number the last week of October when she decides if it's time to try clomid again, so it's hard not to look at that number.
Based on the number of times I've seen it fluctuate these last two months, my best guess is I've gained somewhere between 5-8 lbs of muscle...still every time the weight goes up, it comes right back down to my starting weight.
That is, until today. I haven't weighed myself in a week, and when I stepped on today, I stepped OUT of a rut.
|f7.1, ISO 400 - My bathroom lighting was low, but I finally managed a pretty clear shot!|
So that's what's happening over here this week. I feel hopeful again; like this process is really getting me somewhere (which is unmistakable when I look in the mirror and see how I've changed). I realize my weight will probably continue to see-saw as I build muscle, but finally, finally, FINALLY, I'm beginning to see the see-saw tipping lower. My prayer and hope is that it continues to move lower and lower as I go.
My first thoughts this morning after I weighed myself were prayers of thanksgiving. That made me feel that I've come further than just a number. Thank you God for my sister-in-law who has encouraged me on this path. Thank you for the women who have supported me at each step. Thank you for my health and ability to do this, however limited I may feel. Thank you for the support of my husband to take the "early shift" with the girls. Thank you most especially for a body that can be strengthened and renewed, a mirror to our souls.