What I wasn't told!

After I got married, I was constantly asked the age old question, "when are you going to have a baby?".

I often answered as vaguely as possible, "whenever God blesses me with a child, that's when!"

The truth was I knew I wanted to wait a bit, not too long, but long enough to settle in to the role of wife. I also feared that if I boasted a time frame of when I would conceive, I just might jinx myself out of that miraculous gift I so craved.

When I finally did see those two pink stripes on the little white stick, I jumped for joy and called everyone that night! One of the things I remember most vividly throughout my pregnancy was hearing all the great advice from veteran moms. "Sleep when the baby sleeps." "Breastfeed. You will lose weight faster." "Use a paci if you need too." "Stay in the hospital as long as you need too." "Eat whatever you want, but not too much." "You can drink wine!" "Stay home as long as you can if you can." "Let people bring you meals." "Enjoy every moment because it goes by so fast." "Take a million pictures." "Listen to your mommy instincts." "Take care of yourself." "You're going to be the best mom ever." "Don't forget about your husband." There are probably many more that I was told, but these are the ones I remember the most.

This advice was great and I try to hold onto it whenever possible. The tough part is what no one told me.

My loved ones failed to mention to me how utterly and completely exhausted I would be... ALL THE TIME. No one told me how hard, challenging, difficult, and HARD motherhood is. No one told me how I would be constantly filled to the brim with worry and guilt over even the smallest things. When I talk to other moms about this, they either tell me, "Its okay, it's totally normal" or "Yeah, no one told me either."

So there... I told you.

The Challenge

Ten years ago I had surgery on my knee to correct a torn ACL.  For that many years I have used that as my excuse as to why I left the fitness world.  The truth is prior to the accident, I worked out five to six days a week, hard core, and loved every sweaty minute of it.  I also LOVED to eat.  After the accident, I maintained the same level of eating and put on 20 pounds right away but didn’t really workout for six months.  The more weight I gained, the more depressed I became and the more I ate.  I stopped my fitness regimen pretty much cold turkey.  After the pain went away, I worked out maybe twice a week at a moderate intensity helping me to maintain where I was.  I might have lost two to three pounds in a month, but then I would gain another five to seven.  Either way, I was on a road to slowly gaining over time and never really losing any significant weight.  Then I had two children.  I gained 25 pounds with my first pregnancy and lost about 15 pounds of that.  Second child, I gained 15 pounds, lost ten, and then gained 15 in the next six months.  I felt (have been feeling) completely out of control and on a major whirl of chaos. 

The really confusing part is that I love the shape of my body and love my face, but the shape is just way too big and I am feeling so unhealthy, almost sick.  I just want the shape to be more slender, toned, and healthy.  It is important for me to list out all the effects this weight gain has placed on me.  It is important for me to be as transparent as possible for it will hold me accountable and help me to see my progress.  Regarding the effects; I hate seeing myself fat, I feel unworthy, lack of confidence, shy, timid, embarrassed, back pain, headaches, low energy, always tired, lowered sex drive (I say lowered because it is still there!), joint pain, gastrointestinal distress, digestion issues, anxiety, sadness, grief, irritability, modesty, lack of interest in important things (mainly fashion), hating to take pictures or buy clothes, dry skin, shortness of breath, and irregular monthly cycles.  Ugh, that was really hard to write.  But it is the truth.  I am sure there are more symptoms I could add, and will along the way as I experience them. 

What I remember about my work out days ten years ago, was being so motivated and determined to go to the gym.  It was a priority.  I had a plan.  I had friends at the gym.  It felt amazing after a meaningful workout, and I looked great in my clothes.  I felt great.  Now, not so much. 

I am downright terrified of the journey I am about to embark on.  I found Cathy Savage online in 2002.  I have loved her from the moment I met her.  In 2005, I attended my first Camp Savage in Boston.  It was one of my very favorite trips I have ever taken.  I learned so much about fitness and fitness competition.  I wanted to take all that I learned and move mountains.  But somewhere along the way, I gave up and just let go of everything I held on to so dearly.  I believe that my grandpa’s passing in 2006 played a major role in my grief and depression.  I have done a lot of work on this in counseling, but I think I am not done.  I know I am not done.  There is still something missing about my experience of losing my grandpa.  I think I know what that missing piece is… I know what that missing piece is. 

My grandpa was my dad.  Losing him was akin to losing my dad.  Admitting this, for me, means that I diminish the role my biological father has played in my life.  Admitting this means people will get hurt, he (my biological father) will be hurt, and I hate seeing others hurt on account of my thoughts or actions.  But I cannot hold on to this anymore.  I have to admit to myself that I lost my dad in 2006.  I fell in to the greatest depression of my life after his passing.  I felt incredible guilt after feeling this way and shoved it all in to wine and bad bad choices.  I pulled myself out of it, but have never quite forgiven myself or given myself the permission to feel the truth.  The truth is; I lost my real dad in 2006.  I have a biological dad whom I am loving and forgiving.  I have a step-dad whom I consider the man that raised me, whom I love with my whole heart, who is also my dad. 

Goodness, when I set out to write this first blog post, I never in a million years intended to write this last piece.  If I am going to do this right, if I am going to win this competition, I am going into it full force.  I am not going to hold back anything.  The Savage Transformation begins on August 1^st.  My plan is to immerse myself into this transformation physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.  I do not expect it to be easy.  The hardest part for me will be the eating part, as I LOVE food (maybe addicted??) so much.  My plan to combat that is… for every craving… I write.  I hope to be writing lots every single day.  For sixteen weeks, I hope to jumpstart what will be a life style change for me.  I hope to clear out my mental closet and re-organize my thoughts and feelings in an accessible and meaningful way.  Most of all, I hope to be a better person for my husband and children.  Let the challenge begin!!!!!!