I live in gorgeous sunny Brisbane with my wonderful husband on nearly 6 years, his 2 teenage daughters and our 16 month old little boy.
I become a step-mother at 21 when I started dating P and have found it increasingly difficult balancing EVERYBODY. I didn't put myself first anymore... I put P's ex before myself for god's sake! I love my family more then anything and refuse to use them as an excuse... life is busy, shit happens.
We tried for 2 years to fall pregnant with C before trying IVF. I hated every minute of it, but it was successful. It was a horrible time and I never once felt comfortable being pregnant... needless to say, we lost the baby at 6w. I was devastated. It was the hardest thing I have ever been through. Finding out I was pregnant with C was bizarre... it was 6 weeks after my miscarriage, my period hadn't returned, I had no symptoms at all. P basically had to push me out of the frontdoor, begging me to buy a pregnancy test. It was positive straight away and I was beyond excited. We found out at 20w that the baby was a boy - I was so happy. After 2 girls, I really wanted to give P something he had never experienced.
C was born healthy after a difficult labour and emergency C-section. I had put on 20kgs during pregnancy and weighed 80kgs the day after I had him.
Breastfeeding was extremely difficult for me, but I stuck with it and after 2 weeks, C's wind issues were causing huge problems at home. The poor kid couldn't sleep and was in terrible pain. I had to cut out so much food from my diet (incl all diary, tomatoes, garlic, chilli, onion, beans, carrots, white bread, chocolate) and within 24 hours, C was like a different kid... happy and content. I adapted to my new diet and the weight fell off me. I was down to 63kgs by the time C was 12 weeks old.
And then, I decided to start weaning myself back onto the diary... starting with? Chocolate of course. And on and on it went.
By the time C was 12 months old, I was back to 73kgs. I was mortified. I hated seeing photos of myself, but I still couldn't STOP myself from eating the shit. I had joined the gym and was paying $$ each week but I wasn't going... coming up with excuse after excuse.
I still don't know what it was that made me stop and think and realise that the gig was up. I bought jeans just before Christmas, I washed them when I got home and couldn't do them up... so they sat in my cupboard for almost 6 months before I decided to do anything about it. I can do them up now, but there's way too many bulges for my liking.
I have a wedding to attend at the end of August so am working my arse off in the pre-season so I can fit into my lovely size 12 dress. I really, really don't want to buy a size 14 dress just for one night.
And so... my before. I am currently 68kgs and my goal is to weigh 58kg by the end of the 12 week challenge. That is 2kgs less then I weighed when I fell pregnant.
Photos... blergh.
A friend posted some photos to Instagram saying how much she was enjoying being 30. I am not. I feel frumpy and uncomfortable. I don't want to have to wear jeans instead of shorts. I don't want to wear scarves all the time to hide my belly.
My birthday is in September. I will enjoy 31. I will be happy with myself. I will do it.
Edited to add: I made the 12wbt Chicken and Broccolini laksa last night... holy delicious!!!! I had less chicken then the recipe said, but added 3 prawns, green beans and capsicum and a few udon noodles. YUM YUM YUM.
No comments:
Post a Comment