No, postpartum depression had not taken over.  My post baby blues came in July of 2014, about three months after the birth of my first child.  It’s a night I will never forget.  My maternity jeans, which I was STILL wearing three months after no longer being pregnant, were no longer going to cut it.  I was wearing holes in the thighs and knew it was time.  Time to purchase the first pair of non-maternity jeans.  This was hands down the scariest thing that I had done since giving birth.

My husband(at the time fiance), daughter and I took a trip to Target and while there, I decided to try on jeans. This was my first mistake.  For those of you that do not know, Target jeans run at least a size small.  I knew this.  I knew better, but I also had not comprehended my new body.  Let me also say that even pre-baby, I was no thin woman.  I have always been a little bit on the thicker side with big boobs, good size hips and of course, an ass.  While my body has never been my dream body, I never really had a problem with it, until this Target trip.

When we conceived, I weighed 250 pounds.  Standing at 5’7, yes I was overweight, but I didn’t look terrible. Throughout pregnancy, I gained 25 pounds.  Not too bad right?  So at 275 pounds, I gave birth.  Around two weeks later, magic happened and I weighed 255 already.  I was jumping for joy.  Maybe this baby weight would come off easy.  Maybe everything I had heard was wrong after all!

WRONG.

Maybe it was being wrapped up in my new baby that distracted me from myself.  Maybe it was the lack of sleep.  Maybe it was the new IUD.  There are a lot of factors as to what could have led to me ignoring my weight.  I will never know which one lead to this.  Back to Target.  So that fateful night, I picked out about four pairs of jeans.  Mostly size 16, which is what my maternity jeans were(they were from Target too) and a size 18…just in case I had gained a few pounds.

I looked in the mirror in the dressing and room and felt like something was off.  Was it just the mirror or was the really me?

Spoiler Alert: it was me.

I  knew something was wrong when I couldn’t get the size 16’s past my upper thighs.  I knew something was really wrong when I couldn’t button the 18’s.  Once again, let me reiterate that Target jeans DO run small and I did know this from experience before, however, this was earth shattering to me.  Knowing full well my fiance, who loves me so incredibly and always tells me how beautiful I am, was waiting for me, I shamefully walked out of the dressing room.  How embarrassed I was to tell him that nothing fit.  How I embarrassed I was for anyone to know.  I walked out, put the jeans in the reject area, and walked straight into a smile.  He asked me if any worked, to which I replied that I wanted to go home.  He immediately knew something was wrong.  As we walked over to get more baby formula, I broke down in tears and told him nothing fit.  He asked if I wanted to grab another size, to which I cried even more and told him that I did.  To say he was supportive does not do him justice.  He was amazing in every way and even sat through a few more hours of shopping the next day for me to find jeans that fit perfectly.  But here I was, walking in Target, with my brand new baby and wonderful fiance, and I was bawling.  Kids and their moms stared.  Teenagers in groups stared and I just wanted to crawl into a cave and die.  However, with some encouraging words from the hubby, I made it out of Target alive.

It was about a week later that we did these health tests at work.  A bio-metric screening that measured cholesterol, sugar level, weight, BP, and waist circumference. I was horrified with my results.  While my cholesterol, sugar level and BP were great…my weight and waist circumference were not.

I weighed…282 pounds.

That was exactly 100 pounds more than I weighed when I started college in 2005.  Here I was, in 2014, at 282.  So in nine years, I had gained an average of 11.11 pounds a year.  How was I letting this happen??? How had I gone from two weeks postpartum at my pre-baby weight, to 30 pounds heavier?! What the FUCK had happened?  Why didn’t I notice?  Why was I letting this go on????

I started going to the gym but didn’t change my diet.

I lost 10 pounds. I stopped going to the gym, then gained 6 pounds back.

I started dieting, but no exercising.  I lost 4 pounds.

I quit all together and started to give up.  I was down 6 pounds from the original 282 and that is where I stayed.  I got comfortable at 276.  I knew it was not a good weight for me, but I was comfortable.  My husband loved me, I loved me, my daughter loved me.  What else did I need?  Then I saw my wedding pictures and realized, while I am a confident woman and love me… I didn’t love how my body looked.  It’s never been my favorite thing, but it never really got me down until I saw how big my stomach and arms were.  How big my face looked.  How fat my face looked.  Where was my face?  It was there but it wasn’t.  This had to change.

About a year after our wedding, I decided, with the encouragement of my friend, to join Weight Watchers.  I had success with WW in 2009 post college and lost 30 pounds and looked fabulous.  I could do this again!

Flash forward to now.  I have lost 17 pounds.  I am 4 pounds away from 255(the weight right after baby) and 9 pounds away from pre-baby weight.  In the time I have been on WW, I have had two vacations full of alcohol and food and a wedding with the same.  I’ve had some slip ups, major and minor, but nothing is stopping me.  I want to look good for me and for my husband.  I want to feel better.  I don’t want to be the fat mom.  I don’t want to be my husband’s fat wife.  I want to be a better version of me.

Like the top of my page says, I’m not loving it, so I’m losing it and this is my journey. Welcome aboard!