Holy crap…my last post was almost two years ago.
Yeah. I kinda fell off the face of the earth for a while, didn’t I?
So very many of you have reached out to check on me, and it means the world to me. I tried to respond to nearly everyone, but things got a little rough there for a while. I had a whole lotta life happening all at once, and it pulled me away.
A little background to catch everyone up: I stopped blogging a couple years ago when we found out we were unexpectedly expecting again. After the loss the previous year, it was more comfortable for me to take a big step back from many things. I was focusing on the craziness of having just moved and combining households with my parents, working on the house, adjusting to a new life and now this new pregnancy. Between all of that and the dont-feed-me-anything-that-remotely-looks-healthy hormones, I let things slide for a while.
In October, at nearly 18 weeks into the pregnancy, we delivered our second angel baby, exactly 11 months after the first. Emotional recovery from that was slower than I would have liked. I was working on getting myself back on track in hopes of trying for another baby again. Our doctor sent us for testing, and early in 2014 we learned that our chance of carrying a baby to even 30 weeks was less than 8%. At that point, we made the decision to stop trying to conceive again.
In order to take every precaution against conception, we started exploring our options with birth control. Unfortunately, my body didn’t much care for that, and the next 10 months was spent trying to find the right method, the right dosage. TMI: I felt like a walking crime scene 2-3 weeks at a time, and losing weight was an absolute joke. My body held on to every ounce of water and fat and fluff and hardly fluctuated, which totally delighted me beyond words (the especially astute will note the heavy use of sarcasm there). While it’s not uncommon, it was sheer frustration for me. I spent the better part of 2013 struggling to lose weight again. A good chunk of that was emotional- the second loss in less than a year had me eager to get back to where I was before the first one. I had a need to reset the clock, in a way. I desperately wanted those positive feelings and the sense of satisfaction to counteract all the negative I was feeling.
So I tried.
And I failed.
This past December (2014), I was feeling pretty hopeless. Earlier in the fall, I’d concentrated so hard on doing everything the ‘right way’, to the point of obsession, and had no results. NONE. Like, not a single pound, despite 12 weeks of rabid weighing an measuring and counting and denial and exercise and determination. After that, I pretty much gave up. I mean, why bother, when I’d spent nearly a year trying for weight loss, without success.
I mean, I’d mostly stuck to paleo, and low-carb as well (I say mostly because I totally confess to some cheat meals- that may or may not have lasted a week at a time…). It FELT like I’d been really trying hard. In retrospect, hindsight being 20/20 and all, I realize I’d spent a lot more time focusing on the food and using it as comfort. I did the classic ‘I can have as much as I want, cause it’s low-carb.’
January 2015 comes around. New Year, new me. Right? Right. So what if I was back up to 350lbs (where at my lowest I had been down to 267…what’s 84 lbs?). So what if I had wasted (in my own opinion, at the time) a year of my life bouncing around and not getting results. I was determined. I’d stopped the synthetic hormone type of birth control- we’d made the decision to not rely on chemicals based on several factors. I was going to eat right, exercise, get my ass in gear and get my sh*t together and get it done.
Only…I went in a really bad direction.
Suddenly I was numbers obsessed. Forget nutrients, it was all about calories and carbs. I was playing my own little Google game with numbers, and the lower the better. If 1500 calories was ideal, then 900 was better. And then even 900 was too high of a number in my obsessed state. It was unhealthy, and beyond rational. I was almost desperate for results, no matter how I got them.
Between family and friends, the message finally got through to me that this wasn’t cool. I was indulging in self-harming behaviors in an effort to control some stressful situations in my life. It should be no surprise, I wasn’t getting results doing things that way, either.
I’d like to tell you the last 5 months have been pretty decent, but to be honest, I have no idea anymore- life derailed me again. I think I was doing moderately well, since I lost about 25 lbs in February/March. In April, which is already a pretty busy time for me, my mom was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. A week later she had surgery, and life has been a blur since then- between her recovery from surgery and starting chemo treatments this last week, plus mega-major unexpected house renovations to make things accessible for her, I kinda got lost in all the shuffle.
The high level of stress resulted in my developing a hiatal hernia last month. Things were pretty ugly for a while- I couldn’t even drink water without my stomach burning and hurting so bad I was nauseous. My food intake dropped to almost nil for about a week, and was marginally better after that.
While some over-the-counter pills and a reduction in stress have helped the hernia, there’s still some physical limitations to how much and what I can eat. In order to really take care of myself, I’m having to make sure every single bite I take is the right foods, and packed with nutrients. It’s really brought the focus back to what I loved about paleo in the first place- high-quality foods in the right balance that’s optimal for health and wellness.
I’ve been moving back that direction slowly over the past couple years. I drifted a bit, got off-course and distracted by something different (oooh, shiny!). But nothing feels as ‘right’ for me and mine as paleo does.
So I guess I’m back to it!