This is the Week...

I got up this morning and I was holding steady at 161. That means, if I can keep it up, this is the week I wave goodbye to the 160's. It's been a long year hanging out here--hopefully it won't take me whole year to wave goodbye to the 150's.

Although, if I'm totally honest, I hope that by summertime, I am watching the scale inch it's way (slowly) back up. It's difficult to know that this weight loss is temporary and really in an effort to get ready to gain again. I certainly hope a second pregnancy doesn't bring me another 40lbs (although, it was only 30 until my c-section and then they pumped me full of 10lbs of fluids). The plan is to get as much weight off before getting knocked up and then eating like I already have gestational diabetes from the second I see that second line.

The first time I got pregnant, I had been at such a comfortable weight for so long, and had lost the excess chub so long ago, I simply thought, "eh, I lost it once; I'll just lose it again!" in a cavalier sort of way. I had clearly forgotten the hours of hunger I had put myself through the first time, not to mention the sugar withdrawals that gave me headaches and made me go to bed with the sunset just so I wouldn't snack. Those things were not conducive to dealing with a newborn. So the weight (except for the 10lbs of water I got rid of over the course of 3 days) stayed put.

Oh, I also just assumed throughout my entire pregnancy that breastfeeding would melt away the pounds like "they" claim it does. Huh. I guess it's not until after you start nursing and noticing that the weight isn't going anywhere that all these women come out of the woodwork and say, "I know! I didn't lose an ounce until I weaned junior! Then the fat just fell off of me!" Well, nothing is melting off of me, I can assure you, but the scale did become a bit more pliable after Ethan weaned. So I will know this time around that I cannot eat that piece of cheesecake and assume that it will magically transform itself into breastmilk for my child when the time comes. It will stay cheesecake flab on my ass (or under my bra strap---mmmm, pretty).

So there are lots of reasons for me to believe that I will be able to handle myself more cautiously with food the next time around and that I won't find myself stuck for eighteen months at essentially the same weight I was when I gave birth. But still, as I watch the scale put up smaller numbers by the week, I am starting to realize what a blow to my system it will be to see those numbers climb back up again.

Here's to hoping that the next couple of months of weight loss prepare me for a safer, healthier pregnancy, so I can actually get up and walk around this time (as opposed to 4m of bedrest) and keep the scale from bouncing up to the outer limits of the stratosphere...