I have always liked to journal. Well except during my first marriage, when I discovered that my husband was reading my journals and then making me feel bad about them...I stopped completely then. But I type much faster than I write. And while I think it's kinda cool to see how my thoughts appear in my own handwriting, I don't do it as often as I would like.
So much of what I think about on a daily basis is remarkably similar, but so much changes. I would like to put more things down than I do. Pictures and even sound could be cool as well. If for no other reason then maybe some day my children would be interested in what I thought about. What I dreamed about. What I hoped for. What mattered to me. Or maybe it's just cathartic.
In any case...
I have struggled with my weight since I was in that first marriage. That's another story, but suffice it to say that it has been a major struggle. I have tried everything. And I do pretty much mean everything. With the exception of weight loss surgery. And I hit walls. Major walls that last for months. And I lose heart. And get busy.
I started that blog 8 years ago after a loss. A big one. I think I'll just start this blog by re-posting that original post...
March 13, 2011...(in its entirety)
I think that Sorena is very brave to put up a picture of herself that she hates. She's brave for a lot of reasons, but that's one of them. I'm not so brave. But I'm gonna try.
So to answer the question...Why am I doing this blog?
When I was pregnant with Daniel six years ago, I was so afraid that I was going to lose him that I never took a moment to enjoy it, to be hopeful or expectant. I was just scared. All the time. So after five years, I decided to take the plunge and try another IVF before I was officially too old. And wonder of wonders, it worked! I was pregnant! With this baby I was going to excited almost in spite of myself. In fact, I was so excited that I could hardly sleep. The days were trickling by...so so slowly...four weeks, five weeks, six weeks.
I had a scare at six weeks in fact. The day after the ultrasound (which mercifully showed only one baby--but with a strong heartbeat), I started bleeding. After the initial shock, and on the way to the hospital, I felt peace. Like everything was going to be okay. And it was. There was still a heartbeat! The bleeding stopped. I took it easy. I actually watched TV. I read a LOT of books. Seven weeks, eight weeks, nine weeks...
At twelve weeks we went to Mexico. What a wonderful vacation! Delicious food, family and friends, a fabulous villa. The temperature was perfect. The water was perfect. It was a magical vacation.
Thirteen weeks, fourteen weeks, fifteen weeks...I made it past the time when I lost Angelita eight years ago. That's a good sign, right? Christmas came and went. Shirsten and I flitted off to New Orleans and enjoyed each other's company for a few days. Sciatic nerve pain, heartburn, bloating, and almost constant discomfort were the hallmarks of this pregnancy. In fact, when Shirsten and I returned to our hotel room after walking the French Quarter, she said she was nervous about having a baby because I was so uncomfortable all the time. And I was. But it was worth it. I knew why. And it was so worth it.
Seventeen weeks...eighteen...Well, those of you who know me know how this story ends. On January 7 Gene and I drove to American Fork for an initial OB appointment with a Dr. Watabe. And our world crashed in around us. Once again, at a doctor's office, surrounded by strangers, there was no heartbeat. Our baby looked so perfect, but there was nothing but silence. Horrifying, total, devastating silence. His heart had stopped. This could not be real. Their equipment must be faulty. For the first time in a very long time, I doubted. How could my Father in Heaven really love me?
That night ranks as one of the worst nights of my life. I couldn't sleep. I knew that I couldn't wait until my body understood that it was carrying death...not again. So the next day, Celeste took Gene and I to the hospital. This time there wasn't peace. And everything was not okay. They induced labor, and late in the evening on January 8 my Anthony was born. He was so perfect. His hands and his feet: knuckles and wrinkles and nails. How can anything be that tiny? And cold. He was so cold. Once again, my own heart felt shattered into a million pieces. But somehow, when his little body was placed in my hand, my Faith was restored.
For the next few days, sorrow was the most prominent thing in my life. I wasn't particularly interested in anything else. I felt changed somehow. And resolute. I would try again. Not sure when. But I would try.
Anthony gave me a gift. The gift of health. In spite of all of these years of trying...triathlon, running, colon hydrotherapy, fasting, Medifast, Body for Life, Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, personal trainers, food tracking, months and months of no result and failure, with Anthony I was given an impetus and an urgency to find the answers for Health in my life.
I've been searching...reading and studying and trying all kinds of new things. At first I just didn't eat much. Then I tried Medifast. But I had no energy and I didn't feel that great. A turning point was reading Ultrametabolism, then pH Miracle for Weight Loss, Eat for Life, a multitude of cookbooks. And something actually working. It's been just over two months since Anthony died. I've lost 32 pounds.
And I am well on my journey. I am eating mostly vegan (with the occasional seafood). No dairy. No eggs. No chicken, turkey, pork, beef...But more important than what I am NOT eating is what I AM eating. I am eating fresh, whole foods. Organic fruits. Organic vegetables. Drinking alkaline water. I think maybe the key to health and weight loss is planning. It's knowing what to eat and when and how much. Not just to not be hungry, but to nourish your body, feed your soul, and heal whatever ails you. To do that, having options helps A LOT. So, we are trying hundreds of new recipes that use all the foods that are best for your body (from what I can determine). And a little trust in yourself. And a reason to keep going when it's hard and different from what everyone else eats.
I feel good. I have energy. I am happy. Optimistic. Joyful....(end of post from 2011)
Yes. That was March of 2011. It's now, if you're keeping track, November of 2019. It's been a long, long time. Over eight and a half years. And much has changed. And much has not.
It's now been 14 years since my Daniel was born and almost 9 since I gave birth to Anthony. I did lose weight back in 2011...almost 60 pounds...but I gained a lot of it back. I tried losing it again (juice fasting for 60 days and training for and running a half marathon), but I gained that back too.
I decided on December 30, 2018 that I was done. It started before then but it started in earnest then. I didn't weigh before I started that day, but I did join the gym and started doing Bright Line Eating. I was somewhere between 210-215 pounds. That means that I have lost around 40 pounds. Which is around 70 pounds from the day I lost Anthony. But I still have 30-40 to go. I have tried several things and I want to try more. That's part of the reason for this blog. But also...to document my journey. Of eating. Of living. Of finding joy.
Who is Sorena that I talk about at the beginning? One of my very best friends. We have been friends since 1983 when she moved to Eagle River. I have posted a few pictures of her from back then. I don't have any of her more recently, maybe she will give me some...The first is from 1984. The second is 2008. I know because that's the year she came to Alaska with her family....
She is very beautiful. She has 9 incredible children, every one of which I dearly, dearly love, and she has been there for me in so many ways I can't even count, let alone remember. She is almost always a part of my journey. I don't know what picture she posted back then, but maybe she does.
In any case, this won't be in any particular order, but I have at least started (or re-started) it. We shall see where it takes me.
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