This week has been, uhhhh, okay, I guess. Last week was a bust for weight loss. On Thursday morning I weighed 143.2 - I was amazed - but then Friday morning and Saturday morning weighed 144.8 - WTF? I ate within my points and exercised my ASS off and for what? So on Saturday I totally did not want to go to WW because I knew I would record a slight gain - which I did, only .2, but STILL. And I just kept obsessing about it all day on Saturday, pissed off and glum that I did not lose anything.
Which brings me to today - I went to see my headshrinker and spilled some stuff to him that I had been keeping back, which felt good. He asked about my goals for pregnancy (because we had been discussing that a few months back) and I told him that I was waiting until I lost some more weight before we started trying. He, like most people, said that I didn't need to lose any weight and that I looked fine. Of course, the guy doesn't see me naked, but at the same time, something clicked in my head. I DO look fine - I am HEALTHY. So why AM I feeling so compelled to get to this particular goal of 135? I'm about 145 - what's wrong with that? Whenever I try to explain it, I feel like an idiot.
It is just the goal I set for myself - it is not an unrealistic goal, at least, I don't think it is. I am 5' 5 inches tall and 38 years old. 135 is a healthy weight for my build, which is "medium" (though I am convinced that my wrists are quite delicate and indicate my body's yearning to be in the "small" frame category). I have weighed 135 in the past - well, it's been quite awhile, really. I weighed 135 for a MINUTE back in 2004 and then promptly ate the 40 pounds I had just lost (in 9 weeks) back onto my body. Then I got pregnant at 180 - then I gave birth at 220 and now, two years later, I am at 145. And wondering two things....
1) Why the goal of 135? and
2) Why, if I want another baby so badly, haven't I done what it takes to lose the rest?
The shrink pointed out that perhaps I am not mentally ready to have another child and I have to agree that this is a high possibility - I've been dragging my feet on the weight loss for a long time, despite my professed desire to have a second child. The goal weight is very close now yet I am in no rush to get there and in fact, have been sabotaging myself for months. I get a little progress, then I back-pedal. Get closer, stop. Get closer, stop again. And I am not really frustrated with myself - I know I can lose it when I decide to finish the job but I still like to think about the WHY part - what is going on in my subconcious? I have no answer today - just musing here - but it is food for thought.
As for the goal itself, well - I am forced to admit that my husband is a big part of what is pushing me toward it. Not in a mean way but in a way that says, "Stephanie, you won't be satisfied if you don't finish the job. I know you - you will be happier if you meet your goal of 135." But I can't help feel sometimes like he is holding some carrot in the air (or maybe a piece of pizza, which is much more desireable to me) saying "I won't give you the pizza until you fit this mold!" and the pizza, is, of course, a BABY. He is withholding my "prize," in essence, until I hit this magic number. Then, of course, I will have permission to gain weight but until then, the game if off. It bothers me, despite the fact that it is all for a good cause (a healthy pregnancy). There is no guarantee that I will immediately become pregnant upon hitting 135. I am filled with "what if's" and hopeful that I will not be saying "if only" at some later date.
Whoa - that's a lot of babble but it's important for me to talk about, write out, whatever. When you put words down in some written form, it gives life and a sense of reality to whatever it is you're feeling and writing about. This struggle is very real for me and for some reason the visit with the shrink made me really think about the WHY of the goal. It doesn't mean that I am going to change everything or anything, for that matter, but at least I am getting closer to knowing just a little bit more about myself and the things that drive me.
As a final note, I must confess that I ate two donuts today and I am not even mad at myself about it. Sometimes a maple bar is just called for. Thank God for Turbo Jam.