I'm Fat

There is no way around it. I am, simply put, fat. I weighed myself today for the first time in a few weeks. You see, I had a baby 2 months ago. He is my fourth. That normally would exempt me from worrying about my weight but I was overweight when I became pregnant. And when I became pregnant with #3. And #2. The amount of overweightness, however, continued to grow with each pregnancy, and it is just simply out of control.

I am out of breath and my legs burn by the time I reach the top of the stairs. I ache when I wake in the morning. I feel like crap. Something has got to change.

I weighed myself today. Something does have to change.

I am 5'10 so I have some more leeway as far as how much I'm "allowed" to weigh. Growing up I was underweight and doctors tried many things to get me to gain. It never worked. I was just a skinny kid. I didn't start putting on weight until I was about 22. Then I gained enough to look like a woman. At my most, during my period of lots of beer drinking, I weighed 140. And I looked damn good. When I became pregnant with my first at the age of 25 I weighed 135. Within two months I was in maternity clothes and putting on the pounds. By the time my son was born I had been on bedrest for 3 months, eating non-stop all the while. I reached 200 pounds that pregnancy.

Long story short I sat at a "comfortable" 185 for several years after my first two were born. There was a period of time where I became vegan and easily dropped down to 150. I also just had a divorce and was happy and energetic. I danced with the kids daily. Hiked several times a week. The world was opened up to me, I was eating healthy, and life was good. Then I began dating the man who is now my husband. Life was still good, but priorities changed. I stopped being vegan at first when we went out, completely by the time we moved in together. I did other things and ate more, more often. All the weight came back. Back to my good ole 185.

I've been married to my husband for 5 years now. I had two more babies during the last 2 years. I weighed myself today. I am 221. 86 pounds heavier than where I was pre-children. I'm unhealthy. I hate it. I feel guilty, stressed, ugly, hideous even. I want it to stop. Now.

I used to smoke. It was hard to quit smoking. It was really, really, really hard. It has been years and I still wish sometimes I could just buy a pack of cigarettes and be a smoker for an evening again. I hated that panicky feeling I would get right before I was going to try to quit. But even that was easier than losing weight. I hated the stigma that went along with being a smoker. I hated having to hide it from people. I didn't want people to know that I, as a Mom, actually smoked. I felt judged. Eating, there is no judging. People expect me to eat. It isn't crazy for someone to eat at McDonalds. People are not going to look down on me if I order a dessert, or buy a package of cookies with my groceries. Nobody is around when I eat the entire package by myself. I'm addicted. It is scary. I plan to do something about it. And I keep getting that panicky feeling, just like I did before I quit smoking.