Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Weighty Matters Part I

This will likely be the least understandable, most jumbled post of my illustrious career, but if you can stick it out, I hope it will be worth it. I am going to spill the beans on a personal struggle of mine that I would rather not discuss but that is worth discussing. I do not know where to start, so I think I will just head for the beginning and see what happens.

I was not the kind of teenager girl who ever thought about my weight. In this day and age that seems nearly impossible, but it just was not an issue for me. I was a scrawny tom-boy climbing fences, jumping rope and rollerskating my way through childhood in the 70's. I stayed that way into my tween years. I had a brief period around 7th grade where I, um...bloomed...before I sprouted, but once the sprout hit, I was back to my usual size. I never thought about what I ate or what I weighed. The first time weight ever became an issue for me was after the birth of my second child, who is now 16.

I gained a lot of weight during the pregnancy. Happy weight. We finally have money for groceries weight. Eat every time the toddler eats and finish all of her leftovers weight. The good news is that I was 25 so with a bit of walking and nursing a gigantic baby, the weight came off fairly easily over about a 6 month period. The bad news is, I fell for the popular "low fat" thing that was going on at the time. The bad news is that in the 90's "low fat" was code for "unbelievably high in sugar." This wrecked my body. Yep, wrecked. But I fit back in my size 4 jeans, so I didn't really care. Then.

Over the next 10 years and two more pregnancies my weight kinda went up and down but only within about one pant size either way, so I ignored it. My mood also went up and down, and my temper was often out of control as well. When I hit 35, my weight peaked at around 150 something. I was a size 10. I was not feeling well at all. I starting asking my doctor about it. This lead me to a nutritionist and my first insulin resistance test. The test came back borderline hypoglycemia, and the chart said that I was on the top end of the normal weight range for my height. The nutritionist told me therefore that I was just fine and had probably been underweight my whole life and so now I was just evening out. I didn't feel even. I felt tired. And sick. But no one would listen. I took me the next 5 years to get someone to listen.

Obviously this is getting to long for one post, so I will continue tomorrow. Follow the journey if you are not completely bored out of your skull yet. I honestly hope that this will be one of the more important things that I write about, which shouldn't be too big of a stretch considering the drivel I usually pump out!  Even if it is not meaningful to anyone but me... I need to get it off my chest. Thanks for listening. More tomorrow...



  1. I am looking forward to Part II. I suspect it will speak to me just as much as Part I.

  2. Don't put yourself down--this is your blog and if anyone thinks you're writing drivel, then they won't read on! I happen to think you write very well.

    Weight has been on my mind, too. I feel like, apart from the pregnancies, our stories are very similar. I was always naturally thin until my mid-30's. I went from a size 4-6 to a size 10-12. I try not to worry about it since I know all of life's problems didn't magically go away when I was thin. But I hate not fitting into my favorite clothes.