The Weigh InJanuary 12, 2012
I step on the scale this morning... it reads exactly to the tenth of a pound what it did last week. I stand in the bathroom and punch the sheet rock on the wall. I come out of the bathroom with a giant pout on my face, and complain to my husband about the unfairness of it all. He tells me maybe I need to start exercising again. I yell that he doesn't understand, and ask him when he expects me to exercise, 3 am? I grab my apple cinnamon Chobani yogurt and head towards Starbucks.
There is at least 10 people in front of me in line... one of which decides that she apparently needs 6 different drinks. Ugh! While waiting (forever) for my coffee, I bring up Twitter on my phone to waste away the time. I send this tweet:
I get to work, sit down at my desk and get lost in a mundane task that needs to be completed. I drink my coffee. I don't eat my yogurt. I guess I figure if I starve myself this morning, maybe it will make all the difference.
After a while my cell phone rings. It is a call I've been waiting for for a couple of days - a renowned doctor in North Carolina that would like have my daughter join a Turner Syndrome study she has been conducting. We chat, the conversation is nice. I ask lots of questions. I tell her Lily has Turner Syndrome, I tell her about the non-longer mysterious growth on the back of her head. We chat about the various pictures that various doctors have snapped of it on their cell phones. I tell her about my previous pregnancy, about the HELLP syndrome. She pauses, I can tell she is struck by the fact that 2 totally random things have hit me twice. She tells me she doesn't know which one is worse. I take a moment to feel bad for myself, but then slink back to my desk and actual revel in the news the call brought.
11:30 rolls around... time to leave for Weight Watchers. I drive to my meeting, and walk through the door and to the scale. Several people say "hi Sarah". I stop and show the receptionist a picture of my daughter and son. I feel like I'm walking the walk of shame, and yet I should have nothing to be ashamed of, because from a health standpoint I did everything I should have. I drank lots of water, ate my share of fruits and veggies, and stayed within my points. I tried to move a little every day, even if it is just walking around my car while I wait for the gas to pump, or doing squats every time the microwave is running to heat Lily's bottle.
I start the disrobing process - its like a weekly ritual... coat off, scarf and gloves off, blazer off, boots off. I stand in my dress and tights now on the scale and grit my teeth. I automatically blurt out, "I know I didn't lose anything and I can't figure out why!" My CWWL looks up and me and states, "Maybe you should save that comment for a time when you really didn't lose weight." A look of shock crosses my face, I stare down at the paper I see:
I quietly smile, and back away from the scale. I don't know how it happened between this morning and noon. My scale ALWAYS matches Weight Watcher's scale really closely. I don't know how it happened, and honestly I don't care. I will take it!
Next week I hope to make to my first 5 lbs lost.
Don't forget... tomorrow's the LAST DAY to enter my Zipfizz giveaway. There will be 2 winners, so definitely check it out, all you have to do for an entry is leave me a comment on the giveaway post with what flavor you want to try.