Again

I made a decision today. I made a decision that I have made over and over and over and over and over and over and OVER again...time and time again...time after time...

You get the point.

I say this a lot.

"I'm going to work out! I'm going to eat healthy! I'm going to lose weight!"

Now, before you gasp and say, "BUT YOU'RE PREGNANT! YOU CAN'T LOSE WEIGHT!"

Oh yes, Rookies. Yes, you can.

You see, the misconception is that you eat for two when you're pregnant, you give into every craving, you laze around and make your husband rub your feet, etc, etc, etc. End fantasy.

What really happens is if you follow this philosophy (like I did with Noelle), you end up 40 pounds overweight by the end of it all, you hate yourself in all the birth pictures, and you can't get the weight off to save your life. Or your child's life. And that's saying something.

And don't forget everyone tells you that breastfeeding will help you lose the weight faster. Not for me!

I was super active the last time. I did Zumba all the time, but my eating sucked and it showed. I still don't know how my face got even rounder than it is when I'm normal, but it did, and it was scary.

I vowed before I got pregnant again that I would shed the last 10-15 pounds, and that never happened. Now I am going into this pregnancy extra chubby, and I am refusing to let it get the best of me this time.

So....I took the first step and went to the gym. I did 30 minutes on the elliptical and then walked 15 minutes on steep incline. It's no Zumba, but it was something, and I felt accomplished when I walked out of there.

I have made some vows for dietary changes and am looking forward to seeing the results. Before anyone goes all CPS on me...just know that this is FOR the baby. I am making a decision to be healthy, and the weight loss will be an added benefit.

Here we go...again...

That awkward moment...

Well, it happened. Yesterday, it happened.

I got my first, "Congratulations!" as a woman who has actually known me for a long time stared at my belly. I was at the gym, trying to shrink the damn thing, when she made special effort to walk across the room and tell me congratulations because she thought I was "expecting."

It was that awkward moment when it sunk into my brain and hers at the same time...nope...definitely not pregnant. She then began digging herself out of the most colossal hole she could ever be in, rescuing herself with "Oh, how old's Noelle? You must be trying, right?"

OK, Lady. You don't have the right to ask me that question. That's quite personal, and if you really want to know, YES...we have been! For half a year! Do you really want me to unload all of that shit on you right now?

So, I tried to help her and tell her it was OK (even though her comment made me want to shoot myself) and then I tried to get away from her, but she felt so bad that she continued to ask me questions that she already knew the answers to, such as my job and Luke's job and other random crap. I wanted to die and she just wouldn't let me!

Finally, I made my escape, made it to my car, still managing to laugh about it most of the way home, until I called Luke and told him what happened. THEN the tears came.

Honestly, I've heard of this happening to other women, but the first time it happens to you, it just feels like a punch in the face and the gut at the same time. All of a sudden, you feel absolutely ashamed, even though you've been walking around in that body for quite some time now. I started to wonder who else thinks I'm pregnant based on this belly? My students? My coworkers? My friends? My family? That lady I see at Target 4 times a week?

The truth? Heaven knows I WANT to be pregnant. I'm about to turn this blog into a "My Fertility Journey" blog because it is getting that ridiculous, but we're not quite there yet. The fact that everyone assumes they have the right to even ask you if you're "trying" to have another baby is pretty friggin' annoying. What a personal, insensitive question. My best friends don't even ask me that. Wanna know why? Because they KNOW that we are.

I spent the whole day sulking about it. Sulking because it was a rude thing to say (even though she didn't mean for it to be rude), but also because I know that I have to do something about it. It's no secret that I have let the stresses of life get to me, and now if it weren't for "flowy tops" my students would see that Mrs. E never buttons the top button of her pants. I think I was mostly mad at myself yesterday.

So...what to do about it. It's clear that I'm not going to enjoy Zumba in Muncie the way I did in Indy. The style is different...classes are different...people are different. I don't see it being my "thing" the way it used to be...which honestly makes me really, really depressed. I'm going to have to find something else that makes working out motivating and fun.

I woke up early and decided that I better make good use of the time I have before Noelle wakes up, so I put on the 30 Day Shred and started at Level 1. Corny and stupid and lame...but I did it. I broke a sweat. I'll probably be sore tomorrow. And I guess that's all that really matters anyway.

The best part of yesterday? Celebrating my "pregnancy" with a huge glass of wine. Maybe being Sterile Meryl or Baron Sharon ain't so bad after all...