Beginning Again

Sigh. I feel a bit like a dog who has been caught digging in the trash. It is with my tail between my legs that I write this, knowing that I fully believed the last time I started this journey would be my last first. Well, here I am...back at square one yet again. I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a little beaten down by the process of change. I know it's supposed to be hard. I know if it was easy everyone would do it. But damn. Changing 32 years of eating habits and non existent excercise routines is just plain brutal.  

In January, after falling off the paleo/primal/excercise wagon I jumped onto in October, I looked at the vast expanse of the year and charted my path.  I was brightly optimistic about how little I would have to lose each month to reach the 50 pound weight loss goal I set before our Disney/HP World trip in December.  I was so optimistic that I let the time just tick away. Every month I said to myself "ok, this is it. I have to do something. I still have plenty of time." I would recalculate my monthly weight loss goal and vow to get started.  "Plenty of time" turned into "holy crap, I have no time left." 

This is getting really old. 

So, enough is enough.  I can no longer pretend that I am "fat and happy." It's actually a ludicrous, embarassing thought when I write it out like that.  I can no longer allow myself to eat my feelings or comfort myself with food that does my body so much damage.  Whats that thing they say about the definition of insanity? I don't  want to be insane. And I cant continue to pretend that I have "plenty of time."

I am 32 years old. I take Ibuprofen almost daily for the groaning aches and pains in my knees, hips, and back.  I have to buy shirts that are long enough to cover my overhanging belly and hide my arm fat.  I don't even remember a time when I weighed less than 250 pounds.  I physically cannot crawl around on the floor with my baby even though it brings her unquantified joy. I cringe at the idea of joining my kids on a trampoline or in an inflatable bounce house.  I am dreading getting on that airplane or trying to squeeze into roller coaster seats designed for normal sized people. Most of all, I fear entering middle age with a 150 pound monkey on my back. This is real. This is my reality. This is what must change.

If I sound harsh, well maybe thats because I have vowed to lay my shit bare here.  I am fed up with my excuses.  These are the things we don't say out loud.  We're supposed to love ourselves and have confidence in our value as people.  Well I do love myself. Maybe that is what has actually changed while I was toiling away with monthly goals, measurements, and time clocked at the gym.  Maybe I finally love myself enough to face my reality. I am a strong, powerful force to be reckoned with. I have birthed 2 strong, powerful children. I have weathered storms that should have wiped me out and pushed me into the mud. I refuse to let this beast take me down. I don't have plenty of time left. I only have now.

The Epic Recapitulation of the Glorious Delivery of Iris Butterfly Hanel as Told By Her Mother, The Warrior Queen of Water Birth

All good stories begin , in part, with another story.  Naturally, since this is one of the greatest stories ever told, it will begin at the beginning  of a very different story.

When I tell people that the birth of my first wonderful daughter, Lillie, took place in a hospital with the administration of massive amounts of Pitocin (which I fondly refer to as “the drug of demons”) but no sweet relief from an epidural, they often look at me as though I have sprouted another head.  I often feel as though I have two heads, a spiky tail, or a third eye at the very least, but that really has nothing to do with this particular story.  Oh, I could fill a gorge with the number of times I have said “If I only knew then what I know now!” I took that Pitocin 5 years ago with the conviction that my baby needed to arrive immediately since my water had broken only hours before.  I struggled to retain consciousness throughout the laborious process of bringing Lillie into this world in a haze of Pitocin induced pain.  But, as I’m sure you can guess, that baby DID come and I DID survive.  I felt certain that if I EVER decided to have another baby that I could do it “the old fashioned way” as long as no one even uttered the word “Pitocin.” Cue mental imagery of a Viking Woman with long flowing braids, wearing an ornate breastplate posing fearlessly atop a snow-capped mountain.

Fast forward through several years of expounding upon the merits of only having one child, a mind-altering late night viewing of The Business of Being Born, a move to Austin, a complete change in parenting ideologies, tons of research,  and a dogged determination to learn from my mistakes.  Now you can imagine how I arrived at the doorstep of The World’s Most Majestic Midwife, Heather Hilton.  And, oh how serendipitous was this meeting!  It was the perfect pairing of midwife to mother, of sass to crass, and of a strong mutual faith in the extraordinary abilities of the female body to perform miraculous acts.  The decision to have Heather as my guide through this epic journey of pregnancy and childbirth would prove to be the greatest possible choice for me and my little family. 

So here is where I would bore you with the details of the pregnancy, with the growth rate of the baby, with the flowery description of the first time we heard her heart beating or the pink frosting filled cupcakes we ate at the gender reveal party.  But instead I will skip right to the good stuff!  At 30 weeks gestational diabetes, a rude and unwelcome interloper, threatened to rain all over our natural birth parade.  With the expert guidance of my amazing midwife and the patience of my saintly husband we were able to find the perfect combination of diet, cinnamon, and chromium to neutralize my glucose numbers.  It felt like I was heading off to battle every day, equipped to slay dragons with my shield and armor of supplements and carb-free snacks.  I ate meat with a side of meat.  I ate enough eggs to make any body builder blush. And much to the consternation of some nay-sayers (you know who you are, Cinderella client seeking midwives) my diabetic, well upholstered body delivered me to 39 weeks gestation. 

And this is where it gets really good!  While chatting with my husband and preparing for bed on April 3, I noticed a minute trickle begin to ease its way down my thigh. I immediately began to panic, thinking that I had failed to properly cleanse myself after one of my three hundred trips to the toilet that evening.  Then the trickle became a drip and all of a sudden I was standing on the bathroom rug leaking amniotic fluid all over the chocolate brown shag!  Rapture for rupture!  My water had broken!!! This was it!  I could feel it.  I just KNEW that the baby would be making her debut that night.  I called Heather immediately and Lee ran out for some last minute supplies…maxi pads and pistachio muffins, of course.  When I awoke later that night to an achy cramping sensation I just KNEW it was the beginning of labor.  I watched. I waited.  Nada. Less than Nada, actually.  Zip. Zilch.  I couldn’t even use my shiny new contraction app. Throughout the day I charted what seemed like an endless supply of crampy clusters…or as I like to call them: contraction teasers.  Each time I felt a particularly strong sensation I would whip out the iPhone and time it. I was surprised the app didn’t come with a little laughter feature or chiding librarian voice telling me to get a grip and wait for the real deal.  But Warrior Queens are rarely patient, so when Heather suggested acupuncture on April 5 after 2 days of leaking fluid and merciless contraction teasers, I was all over it.  Drs. Allie and David of Goodwin Chiropractic and Acupuncture kindly rearranged their schedules to accommodate my eagerness, and I walked out of their clinic at 1:30 pm feeling like a new woman.  Well, as new as one can feel carrying around 20 extra pounds and a belly the size and shape of an inflatable swim ring.

We went about our business and ate a delicious feast at Logan’s Roadhouse with my husband’s parents.  I began to feel nauseous and extra crampy towards the end of dinner, so we headed to my sister’s house where she prepared a soothing foot bath and massage.  When I began to have trouble talking through the “contraction teasers” I realized that perhaps now would be a good time to put that iPhone app to the test.  Sure enough, my contractions had begun to pick up speed and intensity.  This was actually it! I KNEW it.  For real this time. No seriously, I was finally in active labor!  We headed home for a shower and to gather our wits and birth accoutrement.  The car ride from my sister’s house was less than pleasant and the contractions were letting me know that they weren’t messing around this time.  I called Heather and we agreed to meet at the birth center at 10 pm.  By the time 9:30 rolled around I was having visions of Lee delivering the baby in the car on the shoulder of I-35 while Lillie cheered us on from her car seat perch.  Fortunately for all involved, we made it to the birth center in one piece.  My mother, sister, Heather and Sandra were all waiting to usher us into what would prove to be the most ethereal experience of my life.

As the contractions escalated I found myself running towards the intensity as if running into waves crashing into the shoreline.  Every breath, every movement was focused on propelling myself and my body headlong into wave after wave.  I breathed deeply, imagining my breath forming a big, glittering letter J.  If I lost focus for a moment and began to drift towards the surface, Heather seemed to know and found the exact words to bring me back down .  My sister and my husband provided constant, encouraging support.  Lillie drifted in and out of the room, lovingly shepherded by my mother acting as her own personal doula. 

As transition approached I found my armor slipping away as I struggled to find a more comfortable position to meet the intense waves that mercilessly crashed into me.  As if divine intervention nudged her, Heather encouraged me into the birthing pool.  My body clumsily lumbered over the side of the inflatable tub, but as I sank into the water I was certain that nothing ever had, nor ever would, feel as heavenly as the warm soothing water as it swirled around my aching, swollen belly. I could have been in the water for a minute or an eternity.  To this day I cannot explain the way time simply melts away.  I was all sensation, all focus, all deep inside my own body.  I envisioned Iris and I rocking together in the waves of a giant, dark cerulean sea.  It was just she and I, pushing towards each other in the water.  And then, miraculously, mystically, she was there.  With one final herculean effort she burst free and floated into Heather’s loving hands.  Just before 1 am on April 6, 2012.  I watched as Heather lifted her to the surface of the water, all tiny and plump, into my shaking arms.  Words simply cannot convey the magic in that moment.  Seeing my husband’s face as he first laid eyes on his baby girl, watching my sister’s glistening eyes behold the miracle, and calling out to Lillie to run quickly and meet her new sister.  It was a blur of triumph, joy, and love beyond measure.  Iris came out tasting the world with her tiny tongue darting in and out of her little rosebud shaped lips.  Her thick hair formed a copper colored halo around her perfect little head.  The world just stopped for a moment as everyone in the room beheld the beauty and wonder of this pristine little person. 

Then like a flash, Lillie was cutting the chord and we were swept into a bustle of activity to prepare us for nursing and resting.  I couldn’t tell you what happened next if I tried.  All I can say is that Iris and I were surrounded by love just as we had been surrounded by water only moments before.  I held her close and felt her sweet breath on my lips.  We had done it together, my little warrior princess and I.

Yoga is Awesome.

Tonight I attended my very first yoga class.  Sure, I had to modify just about every pose, but I stuck it out and tried my hardest.  At the end I was totally drenched with sweat and felt more relaxed than I have in a long time.  Why did I wait so long to try this?! Richard Simmons will miss me on Mondays and Wednesdays while I am getting my yoga on instead of Sweatin' to Whatever.

This weekend went really well.  We kinda had some hiccups on Saturday when our faulty planning left us without a plan for lunch, but we worked it out by getting Rudy's.  It was a pretty decent choice, given the other options.  I overindulged in some "me" time this weekend as well, having 2 girls' nights in a row.  It was just what I needed to reward myself for all the hard work I did last week.  We had our weekly cheat night at Casa Garcia's on Saturday and it was divine!  My body had a little trouble the next day so next week I will try to be a little less excessive with my cheat.  Perhaps the gallon of queso, pound of chips, sopapilla, and Dr. Pepper WAS taking it a bit too far!

I got in 3 workouts last week and several walks on top of that so I feel good about that as well.  Now my goal is 5 workouts this week and building up to 7 the week after.  I have always been a bit overambitious when it comes to major lifestyle choices, so perhaps planning to do cardio 7 days a week straight out of the gate after being mostly sedentary WAS taking it a bit too far! (See what I did there?)

I spent most of Sunday in the kitchen prepping food for the week.  I am very proud of this and have a fridge stocked with treats and eats that are making the cravings much easier to bear.  I will post recipes soon, but considering the fact that I am finding it hard to make an extra 20 minutes a day to write this blog , don't hold your breath!  I think several of the new recipes I tried need tweaking so I will probably wait until I reach maximum yum factor to share them.

If I seem a little dry right now its because I am still battling the emotional and physical pain of a raging thrush infection.  I have lost all hope of improvement at this point.  I am taking 15 probiotics a day, rinsing with apple cider vinegar 2-3 times a day, We did 6 days of Gentian Violet, Iris has had Nystatin, I have taken 2 rounds of Diflucan, and I have cut my sugar intake down to the bare minimum.  It is pretty much consuming my every waking thought and I am feeling so broken.  Its been 16 days since I felt the first pang, and I have never had an infection so resistant to treatment. I am calling a lactation consultant tomorrow, but I just don't see what she could possibly recommend that I haven't already tried.  Still, its the only stone left unturned.

So even though I am experiencing some serious successes on the Paleo/Primal and exercise fronts, I am just defeated mentally.  I am trying very hard to remain optimistic, and my determination to make this lifestyle change work is the only thing keeping me from a complete breakdown.  Still, tomorrow is another day.

Get thee back, Satan!

I am feeling so good and strong today!  This comes as a big surprise because I woke up this morning with a sense of dread at the day to come.  Fridays are stressful as we have our homeschool co-op from 10-1 and we usually go out to eat afterwards.  The idea of eating out terrifies me because its so so so easy to slip up in a restaurant when confronted with all the delicious (albeit poisonous) options.  To add insult to injury, we ran out of time for our usual bacon and egg breakfast so I was reduced to squeezing a packet of Lillie's almond butter onto a banana and calling it a meal.  I am now carting around a little bag of snacks every where I go.  If I carried a purse I would stash them in there along with my sugar free hard candy and some kleenex up my sleeve.

And tempted I was today!  There is always tons of food around co-op and my Kitchen Science class is no exception.  Someone brought what looked like a perfectly constructed baklava, the other cooking classes made cookies and eggrolls, and the teachers lounge had my favorite...Round Rock doughnut holes!  Argh!  Did I mention that my class was doing milk experiments so naturally I brought cookies to compliment the test materials??  Sometimes I marvel at how dumb I am.  I could have fallen over from the scent of chocolate chip deliciousness that wafted up to greet me when I cracked open that fresh bag of Chips Ahoy!  I begrudgingly pulled out my veggie chips and dehydrated apples and munched away.  And you know what?  Those cravings passed rather easily.  And I was so bolstered by my strength at resisting them that I was able to have a healthy paleo-friendly meal at Jason's Deli.  It wasn't easy to bypass the temptation of free (FREE!) ice cream because I am my father's daughter and my brain is composed of about 65% cheap-skate cells.  Did I mention the ice cream is FREE? And its ice cream??? I walked out of there without so much as a lick of Lillie's cone.  Major pats on my pointy little head!

As things tend to snowball INTO control just as much as they snowball OUT OF control, my day continued to get better.  I was exhausted from teaching and temptation, but I hoisted my lazy ass out of the chair and put in 40 minutes of face time with my buddy Richard Simmons while Lee took Iris on a walk.  We capped the day off with a delicious stir fry Lee made and now the girls are both bathed and ready for bed...a good 2 hours early!  I was bummed to learn that the wine I was so looking forward to drinking during my girls' night at a friends house, the wine I was planning on cheating on this lifestyle with, is now off limits because of the raging thrush infection that continues to plague me.  But I am going to drink another diet coke and pretend it has rum in it.  I might even crush up some grapes and pretend they are fermented if I'm feeling sassy.  Don't be jealous of the glamour, folks.

I Want a Damn Doughnut

Ok, the title is a bit misleading.  I WANTED a doughnut this morning.  Instead I schlepped my 7 month old and my 5 year old into Sprouts for the second morning in a row to get some dehydrated apples and some veggie chips.  And more fruit.  I have to admit that the craving was a strong one, but I am proud for maintaining my resolve.  I didn't blog Tuesday because I became pretty ill from what was hopefully the effects of the Diflucan killing off all the yeast causing my raging thrush infection.  Sounds fun, no?  Needless to say, Richard Simmons and I did not hook up on Tuesday.  On Wednesday I did a ton of walking and was pretty worn out so I passed out in my clothes, contacts, and hair clips while putting Lillie to bed.  So no blogging whilst in sleepy land.  BUT, I can proudly say that I have not cheated, not once.

Ok, ok.  I am allowing 2 packets of Splenda with my morning coffee but since I switched from vanilla flavored creamer to half and half with vanilla extract I think I still deserve a medal.  Oh and I have 1 diet coke a day.  I hope to nix this little indulgence soon, but do I need to remind anyone of how much sleep a mother of an infant gets?  Don't try to get between me and my caffeine, people!  Other than those two little cheats, I have not cheated.

I know some of it is mind over matter, but I can honestly say that my knees are about 50% less sore than they were last weekend.  Lee says its because grain acts as an inflammatory and cutting it out can immediately help joint pain.  Whatever the reason I will take improvements any way I can get them.  I suspect my hips will continue to ache profusely until I drop at least 50 lbs.  My energy levels seem to be improving as well.  Perhaps that is due to the motivation to get my shit together in all aspects of life, but again, I'll take it!

On another note, this is an EXPENSIVE lifestyle change.  I knew that going into it, but it still hurts a little to spend so much on fruit and other healthy snacks.  We are also having trouble adjusting to the volume of prep and cooking we need to do.  Tonight we hit a little bump in the road and almost ate out because we had an appointment at 7 pm, were both rung out from our days, and didn't have a crockpot meal planned for tonight.  We opted for heavy snacking (mmmm gluten free sausage and cheese balls) and then came home and scrounged together some leftovers.  I remain optimistic that we will be more successful when we have our full Sunday to prep and bake and dehydrate.  We didn't get that this week so we are having to make do.  I suspect tomorrow will be another rough day as we have run out of bacon for breakfast and I do not have a firm plan for lunch.  We will plan our menu tomorrow afternoon when Lee gets home so we don't go into the weekend completely screwed.

I am finding the exercise to be the hardest ball to juggle.  I am usually pretty beat by the time Lee gets home from work and it is really hard to muster up the wherewithal to trade in my couch time for Sweatin' to the Oldies.  I will keep plugging away because I know it is a crucial habit to form, but I am cutting myself a teensy bit of slack on the work-out front for this week only.  I am still so sore and tired from the thrush infection that I think even the toughest PE coach would give me a free pass due to my lady issues.  

I have been waffling on whether or not I should share my starting weight.  Its quite humiliating to put that number out there, and I cringe even thinking of it in my head.  We decided not to obsess over the scale with a weekly weigh-in as we have done with weight watchers and other diets in the past.  We settled on taking measurements and a monthly weight check at the Y.  I think this was a genius move, because it seems to be motivating me to go longer and further than that weekly weigh-in did.  We might need to reassess this later if the enthusiasm wanes, but for now its doing the trick.   So I keep thinking of how Rome wasn't built in a day, and  I continue to repeat this in my head: refined sugar is poison and grains hurt me.  I don't want it, I don't need it, and I feel better without it. And 320. Over and over and over. 320. eek. Never, ever again.

Whew!

Our first day went better than could be expected. Of course, its always easiest in the beginning when resolve is strong and hopes are high! I must say I thought the sugar withdrawal would be in full swing given the amounts of sugar I was consuming up until today, but I didn't have to battle a single craving all day. I don't know if this is a result of mind over matter or if the whole foods we are eating are just so good and filling that they don't leave me wanting more. Either way, I am grateful for such a fantastic day. I won't go into detail about what we ate or the epic fails of some of the recipes I tried to create today. I do plan on posting a menu plan once a week with links to recipes and assessments, but I will have to do that on the weekend when I am not trading sleep for kid-free blogging time. We had planned to take the dreaded measurements and underwear photos to chart our journey in the most tangible way, but I learned that at the very least I would like to have good hair and makeup to help soften the blow. Clearly, the time to do this hateful thing is NOT right after I became sweaty, red faced, and worn out from Richard Simmons putting me through my paces with "Sweatin' to Broadway." Also, a nasty side effect of this particular exercise "regime" (if popping in an older than dirt VHS tape and dancing around ridiculously in my daughters' playroom can be called a "regime) is that I have had "Ease On Down The Road" from The Wiz stuck in my head all night!

 On a side note, the support I have gained through Facebook and comments here is really touching. I know most of us struggle with our weight, but it means so much to me to hear that my friends are rooting for me to win at this. I am happy to provide any semblance of motivation, inspiration, or comic relief I can through my personal struggle. Just don't expect me to publish those underwear shots any time soon! I can't fathom putting that out there until I've lost at least 100 lbs. And lets be honest...perhaps the very idea that they will soon exist hidden away where no one can possibly see them is enough to give you the giggles and give me nightmares. Shudder.

 PS The reason I titled this blog "Maybe This Time" might be self explanatory, but here are the lyrics to the song from Cabaret that put the idea into my head. I sing it to myself a lot. Ok, we all know I am a little Broadway obsessed already, right?

 Maybe this time, I'll be lucky
Maybe this time, he'll stay
Maybe this time
 For the first time
 Love won't hurry away

He will hold me fast
I'll be home at last

Not a loser anymore
Like the last time
And the time before

 Everybody loves a winner
So nobody loved me;
 'Lady Peaceful,' 'Lady Happy,'
That's what I long to be
All the odds are in my favor
Something's bound to begin
It's got to happen, happen sometime
Maybe this time I'll win

Standing on the Edge

Here I am, on the eve of one of the biggest life changes I have ever made. I have graduated high school and college, gotten married, and birthed two beautiful children. Before today I would have said that having children was the biggest lifestyle change I have ever willingly made. Now, with the dawn of a new day for my family looming, I have to say I am more nervous and excited about this change than I have ever been. Nervous because I know how important this is. Excited because I feel like maybe this time I will finally get it. Maybe this time everything will click and I will succeed.

 I was talking with my good friend John about how I rarely let anything hold me back. When I wanted to make my own path in the theatre world, he and I simply started producing our own works. When I wanted to have a natural birth experience free of fear, I simply found the right midwife and made it so. I feel in many ways that I tend to be a doer rather than a wisher. I have conquered many fears and jumped headlong into dreams to make them my reality. The one thing, the ONE thing still holding me back from the life I want to lead is my weight. I have lived my entire life with this albatross around my neck. I have let it back me into corners, scare me into submission, and rob me of my confidence and feelings of self worth. My family history is one of obesity, diabetes, and mobility issues. My personal history seems to be mirroring that very pattern. 

People talk a lot about the moment when they knew a change was necessary. That moment where something breaks and the only option is to find a new path. My moment wasn't glamorous. There weren't bells, fireworks, or tears. Earlier this week I went into the doctor's office seeking some relief from a thrush infection from nursing my 6 month old. As always, I was asked to step on the scale. My heart sunk when I realized I was the very same weight I had been the week before I delivered Iris. The same weight as when I was 9 months pregnant. Six. Months. Ago.

 Lee and I have been talking about going with a Primal diet for months. We have even transitioned many of our evening meals into Paleo and Primal friendly. But I was still gorging myself on sweets, using the crutch of fast food to save time, and drinking tons of caffeinated sodas. I realized as I stared at that scale that this lifestyle was clearly making itself known. Not only do I weigh as much as I did while pregnant, my hips still hurt the same, my knees hurt WORSE, and my body seems to be rebelling against me in every way I can imagine.

This was my moment, in the hallway of a clinic with bad flourescent lighting and the smell of pine sol and antibacterial hand sanitizer.

 So tonight, as I write this painful first entry, I vow to continue to write about this journey as much as I can. To keep me honest and on track. Because this HAS to happen. I know which path I am on, and I know which path I need to be on. I have always felt that the key to my success for a healthy lifestyle lay just out of my grasp. Now, with an empty pantry and a full fridge, the knowledge of how my body is meant to work, the support of my awesome husband, and the resolve to FINALLY succeed, I think maybe this time I'll win.