Karen @ Waisting Time wrote how the numbers on the scale affects how she feels depending on the direction the number is going (going down feel great, going up feels fat). I was reading the comments from her post (Karen's warped theory of relativity) and could completely relate to Muchberry's comment, "I travel to the land without scales when I gain weight" because I too avoid the scale when I'm in gain mode.
But then I remembered that is not entirely true. I'm at the heaviest weight in my life and I witnessed the pounds piling on and the numbers on the scale going up; weigh in after weigh in.
Of course, I would have happily avoided the scale, but unfortunately when one is pregnant, one's doctor weighs you. I was nervous for my first appointment, I had not weighed myself in a year so I knew the number was going to be a shock. Shock it was, I gained 30 pounds in a year (after a year of restricting, I followed up with a year of overeating).
Considering how the hunger hit like a cement truck in the first trimester, I was pleasantly surprised that the weight gain in the second appointment a couple of months later was only two pounds. But after that, the scale indicator didn't stop moving to the right. I even managed a five pound gain in one week. The nurse was positive it was an error (that can't be right) and weighed me again (wow, that is not a mistake).
Not all the weight was a true gain. I was trying to finish some stuff before the baby arrived; complete another class in the magazine publishing certificate program, finish upholstering a pair of club chairs in a re-upholstery workshop plus we were implementing a new online application at work which meant 12 to 14 hour workdays and overtime on weekends. Apparently it is important to put your feet up as much as possible, I retained a boatload of fluids: the swelling in my legs came to my my knees, I was unable to sleep properly during the third trimester and the water in my arms induced carpal tunnel syndrome so I wore wrist guards all day and all night.
The weird thing was that with all that weight gain, my senses dulled to the perpetually increasing number. I was thankful when the gain was limited to one or two pounds and downright delighted on the single occasion that there was no weight gain. But it was impossible to comprehend what I was seeing on the scale, I dismissed it by telling myself that I'd lose it after I was finished having children.
Now here I am, two little boys later and 75 pounds heavier than what I weighed on my wedding day five years ago. In stark contrast to the time that I put on this weight, I'm acutely aware of every pound that I lose and have yet to lose.
I'm kicking myself for not getting help for this eating disorder before I got pregnant - well, sort of - the important point is that I did get help.
Did you gain your weight slowly over many years or did you gain your weight quickly?
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