I just got a new scale. I had to get a new scale because the new scale that I got just a few months ago broke. I didn't know it was broken though, I just thought that I had gained five pounds. The day after I made the most fattening brunch ever I stepped on the scale (I may or may not weigh myself daily, I don't know if that is weird) and it said that I was a full 5 pounds heavier than the day before. I know that the brunch was bad for us but 5 POUNDS?!?! So I moved the scale all around the bathroom, I messed with the little feet thingies on the bottom, I took the batteries out and put them back in and it only continued to tell me that 5 pounds had molded themselves most likely onto my midsection and were not going anywhere by moving the scale around. For the next week I freaked out mentally, worked out every single day, started counting points more closely (I love Weight Watchers) and no matter what I did the stupid scale would tell me the exact same, extra five pounds weight every single day- it was starting to make me a bit crazy if you can't tell.
I figured that this was a result of not nursing anymore, but I was getting pretty angry that no matter what I was doing not even the .3 at the end of the 3 digit number would go away.
Mike kept telling I am beautiful and all of my clothes were not fitting any differently, but I seriously thought that I could see the extra fat, I could see it. I realize that there are self image issue here still playing themselves out from years and years of awkward insecurity, and I am sure that they will always be there to some degree or another, hopefully a much smaller degree. Anyways...
A friend of mine here is SB who's had babies around the same time mentioned nonchalantly at a play date that she wondered if we would ever have to actually "Try" to lose our baby weight (hers had just fallen off from nursing and being all temperate and what not). I was thinking to myself "I DO TRY!!!" but just smiled and pretended that I never make the slightest effort. I am not one of those women, I have had to make a serious effort this time around to get back to pre-pregnancy weight.
The reason that those extra 5 pounds were/are such a big deal is that as far as I know, without those 5 pounds, that is the least I have ever weighed since I cared about weighing myself- I was a rather chubby middle schooler and I am sure I was smaller in high school, but I don't think that my parents even owned a working scale, very very smart. It was a glorious day when I randomly stepped on a friend's scale, about 6 or so months ago and saw that I was 5 pounds smaller than I was at my wedding. I wish I had never even done that though because then I went out and bought a scale to make sure that I stayed that weight. Now to my credit, my main reason for freaking out about the 5 pounds is that I am assuming that I will be pregnant before I know it and without the extra 5 I would be 20 pounds smaller than I was when I got pregnant with Bernadette (our 2nd). So far with both girls I have gained somewhere between 40 and 50 pounds, so to be 20 pounds ahead of the game this time around would be flipping awesome! I am sure I will still gain a lot but the end weight will be much more manageable. That is a justifiable reason for over-obsessing about weight, right? I think so.
So yesterday I weighed myself in the a.m. when I would have been the smallest and it said that same, stupid 5 extra pound weight and so I decided to go ahead and weigh myself much later in the day, right after I had eaten, with all my clothes on and.... it said I was 3 pounds lighter than in the morning. I knew the thing was broken, so I went straight to Bed Bath and Beyond and returned the thing and got a new one, which read my typical, happy weight of 5 pounds lighter than I was at my wedding. The amount of relief that I felt was, I am sure, disordered, but no less sweet. Now I can be more at peace at conceiving another child and not be so paranoid about my ridiculous weight gain.
Don't judge me for being crazy,