Jul 2, 2014


It's clearly no surprise that I haven't been here in a while. Of course I have thought about it, blogging had become such a big part in my life. And now, just 9 short weeks ago, my life changed from losing weight, to trying to maintain my weight with a baby inside of me. I have done that, I haven't gained any weight. When I was going on my crazy emotional kick, I put on about 5 lbs. But since those 5 lbs, I have been holding steady. I am hoping that 300 doesn't happen. 
I guess I can update you on how I feel. 
I am nauseated. EVERY second of EVERY day. I don't throw up. I have never been one to throw up. My body will feel like it, but then I guess it changes its mind. I get tired occasionally. Like any normal person. Other than those two things, I feel amazing. I am happy. Like I was meant to do this whole pregnancy thing. I for sure thought I was going to be an emotional wreck, and who knows, I still could be. I mean I cry at country songs, but that's just because they make me think about how much I love Dayton. So other than crying over country tunes, I have felt great. I don't get as agitated like I used to. Which, if you know me, you know that I freaking lose it half the time. Between mine and Dayton's anxiety, this kid is doomed. 

Week 3 and Week 9
No difference, I don't think at least.

I am obsessed with looking up plus size pregnancy pictures.
Some people will post pictures of them at 6 weeks.
Uhm, you are about 300 lbs, your little blueberry is not gonna make you show at 6 weeks.

Speaking of a little blueberry.

This is Doodle Holland.
The sonogram was on 6/16/2014
When I was 7 weeks.
Heartbeat was about 160-170. We weren't able to hear it, but we could sure see that sucker go.
At the appointment, we found out that I have a cyst on my right ovary.
She said the norm is about 3 cm. Mine is 10.
She wasn't too concerned about it, so I am trying not to be either. She said that usually when the placenta grows more, it will lean on the cyst and pop it. When I told her that I wasn't in pain, she was very surprised. She wants to keep an eye on it, so I go back on the 14th, and get another sono. Until we figure out whats up, no heavy lifting, extraneous activities or working out.

Now, time for my reflection.
Two years ago, on July 10th? Maybe.
Was my Gastric Sleeve surgery. It feels like it has been years. I got a little emotional thinking about it. That surgery was supposed to change my life forever. And like everything else, I prevented it from happening. Why? Because I have an addiction. Food makes me feel every emotion under the sun. I hate that I failed myself. Yes, I did go a long way. 75 lbs is a HUGE loss. But, as they always say, comparison will be the death of you. One of my closest friends got the surgery. And she still looks amazing. I had more to lose than her, but she kicked fats ass. She even had a baby, and is still rocking it. And I'm over here, being all fat. I don't doubt that the surgery changed my life. It gave me confidence. Confidence I never knew could exist. I became a different person. A stronger version of myself. I wish that I would have let myself continue on the path that I was going on. I ate right, I ate the amount that I should. And then I just stopped. For no reason at all. Maybe subconsciously I thought I've come this far, I'll continue to lose it. I still didn't eat a lot. But, I didn't realize it was what I was eating that was getting me. I also started going out more, and drinking a lot. Empty calories. I believe that all of that contributed to my failure. I say I would do it again in a heartbeat, because I would. BUT, I would get that counseling that I was warned about. You can take the girl out of the fat, but you can't take the fat out of the girl. I believe being fat is 100% emotional for me. I can work my ass off, I've done it a million times, but, its the before and after work outs. I hear so many people say, "oh, you wont want to eat bad after you work out". Lies. I want to eat bad even when I don't want to eat bad. It's a fall back. I feel like I will miss out on food. Like that food will never be made again, and it is my absolute last chance to ever eat it. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I am telling you, that is how I feel. My mind is completely altered. I pray that after this baby, that I will be able to get back on track, to eat right, and get to my healthy point. I don't want my child growing up with the same issues that I have had since I can remember. Lead by example. I can't expect for my child to be healthy and not get fat, when I am fat and not healthy. It is going to be an even longer process now, and I THINK I am ready for it. 
I am going to focus on my pregnancy, and then after, being a #fitmom. 

And on that note, I must bid you adieu.  
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