The older I get, the better I used to be...

Sissy's Story:

I recently jumped on the scale at my sister's house and confirmed my worst fear...I had gained another ten pounds in the last two months. The scale now read a whopping 247 lbs. Two-forty seven? I have gained 100 pounds since high school. As much as I had been trying to brush off my weight gain in the recent years, the ugly truth was staring back at me in the form of three little numbers. "TWO FORTY SEVEN...(which translated into) YOU ARE OBESE"

Obese is such an ugly word. No one wants to be labeled with such a term. "Fat" is bad enough, but "obese"? Please, just put me out of my self-inflicted misery.

It isn't as though I haven't tried to lose weight in the past. Like any woman who has traveled down the yo-yo dieting path, this was unfortunately not an unfamiliar scene. It is the reason I have waaaaay too many clothes in my closet, ranging from size 6 to size 20. I can't bear the thought of getting rid of any of them - not that I am a clothing junkie - but out of fear that if I get rid of my smaller sizes, I am giving up the fight to lose this stubborn fat forever. If I get rid of my fat clothes, then I may not have anything to wear if I gain the last 5 pounds back and then some. So, my closet is about as obese as I am.

Oh, I've tried all the diets. And I mean ALL. From Atkins to Zone Diet, I have been a financial enabler of the dieting industry. Some of them actually worked. But none of them were any that I could stick to for life - and there in lies the problem.

I have plenty of reasons to drop this excess body baggage, and most of them do not involve issues of vanity. Besides having grandparents and a mother with diabetes, relatives with heart disease, high blood pressure and all the other weight-related health problems, I had a very complicated pregnancy due to being overweight. My excess fat caused me and my husband to miss the birth of our daughter.

About 6 months into the pregnancy, I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes. I know a lot of women get this without necessarily being overweight - but it didn't stop there. Even though I was able to control my blood sugar with a strict diet (and I actually did follow it for the sake of my baby girl), pre-eclampsia set in and I was put into the hospital on bed rest for three weeks prior to my delivery.

The morning of my delivery, the surgeon broke the news to me: My platelets were too low to use an epidural...they were going to have to put me completely under. As I wept uncontrollibly in the pre-op room (I am sure those hormones didn't have anything to do with it!), I looked at my husband in despair. Being the wonderful man he is, he assured me everything was going to be OK and that God was right there with us through it all.

About an hour and 15 minutes later, my beautiful 9.5 lb daughter was brought into the world, and only the doctors were there to witness it. I was unconscious and my husband was not allowed in the delivery room. I didn't get a chance to see her until many hours later and I didn't hold her until almost two days later. It broke my heart. Did my lack of self-control in eating and my blaise approch to exercise cause me to miss one of the most important days of my life? My doctor says quite possibly.

I say, NEVER AGAIN.

So, I am dedicating this blog to all the people in my life that have been affected by my poor eating habits and lack of excercise - my daughter, my husband, my future children and myself.

I hope this blog helps someone else who may be struggling with the same things. There is strength in numbers...which is why I am so grateful to have my sister by my side marching with me on this journey.

Not-A-Quitter,

Sissy