The Life of Ginger

Friday, April 11, 2014

Pregnancy Ponderings - What is wrong with Mommy!?

I have to admit, I never actually thought that this would ever happen to me. I've been told most of my life that having children would be extremely difficult and frustrating, that it would take time and doctors and medication and treatment, and even then - there are no guarantees. I've basically set myself up for failure - crying to Josh numerous times because I'm the one that's broken, not him. How many times must God have shed tears to hear me speak of myself as defective and broken? How many times must His heart have broken when I shortchanged Him and His almighty power?

Yesterday, I could not stop crying. I mean, for good reason. Awww, crap - now I'm crying again. What's so crazy, is that I've only known this little person for only a week. And in that short amount of time, I've fallen hopelessly in love with baby. I look forward to it's daily acrobatics and little taps, letting me know it's there, and that it needs me. I don't know if it's a boy or a girl, I don't know it's name, I don't know the color of it's hair or eyes... I know nothing about it. And yet I love it.

The ultrasound yesterday made all of this real. I'm sure not many of you can understand the sort of wild emotions and processing that goes on when you find out you're pregnant this far in, and then all of a sudden your entire world is turned upside down as you can start feeling baby move, and you're ballooning out in all directions, and things that didn't use to hurt now do, etc. etc. But honestly, even with all of that, I never expected to lose what was left of my heart with one glance of a shadowy ultrasound profile picture. And now it's all gone. Anything I had saved up in me, has now been sold to the little baby taking up residence in my abdomen.

I've never seen anything so beautiful and helpless in all my life - nor something that made me want to weep uncontrollably and shout from the rooftops all at the same time. It's like a switch has been flicked on - a fire in my heart that would do anything for this little creature that I've known a few days longer than I've known the sunshine on my face here in our city. This sweet little munchkin doesn't even have a name - and I love it more and want it more than I want my next breath.

And it's going to be so confused, because all Mommy does is cry lately. But they're happy tears, happy and scared Mommy tears. Happy because my whole life has lead up to this - being a mom is my career path, I've always known it. Scared because I'm baffled at how, in such a short period of time, your heart can find this wild, fierce, reckless love for someone with white hair and fused-shut eyelids and tiny toes and fingers, who weighs a little more than a large mango and is about as long as an ear of corn.

I cannot help but sob literally every time I thank God for this miracle. My heart is overflowing with gratitude and thanksgiving, for such a loving and caring Father who provides for us always and guides our paths. For a loving Savior who hears our prayers and heartfelt cries, who blesses us even when we don't deserve to be blessed. For a compassionate Deliverer, who saves us from ourselves, and gives us hope and new life, though we walk through the valley. My heart is so full - for a God who loves me and never leaves me, for a husband who gave such a precious part of himself to me, and for this baby who is an answer to so many prayers that I thought were lost in translation or forgotten about. For all the blessings that have been poured on my head, that I surely have not earned nor deserved. For family and friends who have listened to me cry and whine and rant, and all the while prayed for me and continue to pray for me and my family.

Though the skies are grey and gloomy today, I am filled with light. The light of Christ and the light of new life. Today is a day to be thankful and grateful for all God has given us. For the small things and for the big things. Today is a day to celebrate His mercy and grace to us, because we are sinners and fall short of His glory, and yet He loves us and cares for us, and knows what we need even before it is on our lips. He is generous and compassionate and overflowing in goodness. And while I am the worst of all sinners, I am a walking testament that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him. Though we may not see it or know it right away, He always loves us, always protects us, and always works for our benefit.

Thank you, God. Prepare me. Protect me, and Josh, and baby. Make me the kind of mom you want me to be. Help me to be kind and patient and peaceful, overflowing in mercy and grace and selflessness, looking to You as my source of wisdom and guidance. I cannot promise this child the world, because I am the worst of sinners; but I can offer this baby me at my best and my weakest - because in my weakness You are made strong, Lord, and Your best is far greater than what I could ever provide this little one with. Help me not to cling to this child too closely, for he/she is Yours first and foremost, and I am but it's privileged guardian as appointed by You. With Your strength, God, I ask that Josh and I be the best parents we are capable of being. I ask that You consistently remind me to lean on You and not on my own understanding, because things always work out better when You're in charge. Keep baby safe and healthy - forgive me for being selfish and self-focused, not listening to You, and in turn, not giving our baby the care, love and attention it so deserved in it's early days. Help baby to forgive me too. Help it to know that I love it more than my own life, and that I would willingly give up my own life and body for it and Daddy. Father, mold me. Make me more like You. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Friday, April 4, 2014

One Preggo Mama

So, I'm pregnant. And I'm 23 weeks pregnant. And I only found out 4 days ago. Yikes! The baby is due July 30, 2014, and while we are absolutely over the moon, it only gives us a mere 4 months to prepare. Baby weighs just over a pound, and is the size of a large mango/grapefruit. AHHH!

With a 1 lb mango for comparison!

First, we want to give total honor and glory to God for this amazing opportunity. While finding out this late is certainly not ideal, He had a reason for everything happening the way it did, and we are so thankful and grateful for His provision and safe-keeping for the past five months. God has blessed us with our very own one-of-a-kind miracle, and we will never be able to thank Him enough for the privilege to raise this child together.

On Monday, I felt God nudging me to go take a pregnancy test. I was absolutely baffled, but I went to Shoppers and bought the cheapest test humanly possible (that being an $11.49 Life brand test on sale... holy moley, are pregnancy tests expensive!). I actually took the test in the washroom at my office, and lo! A positive test. That being said, I noticed that something weird was going on with my body. In the past week I'd 'bloated' really bad, and it wouldn't go away. I mean, I eat the same thing every day, never exceed 1000 mg of sodium in a day, and drink tons of water. So the bloating was very strange to me... In addition, I'd been feeling 'movement' in my tummy - not gas bubbles, but something different, and I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. After I took the HPT, I went to the doctor and took a test, and the confirmed that I was pregnant. They gave me a requisition for an ultrasound, and home I went. I had originally booked the ultrasound for Monday, April 7, and then decided I was too impatient to wait, so we rescheduled for Wednesday this week and got the shock of our lives when the ultrasound technician told us that I was 23 weeks along, and due around July 30th.

A lot of people are probably wondering how I managed to make it this far without realizing I was pregnant. If any of you figure it out, please let me know - I'm dying to know how I missed a fetus taking up space in my body for the past 5 months as well... Haha, but no seriously. The long and short of it is that I have a ton of health issues - for anyone who knows me, they know I'm a walking disaster. The weight I've lost has been hugely beneficial, but has also thrown my body into shock - as it tried to normalize and function the way a 'healthy' weighted body should function.

That being said, back in early- to mid-October, I thought I was pregnant. I took a bunch of tests, even went for an ultrasound, just to make sure I wasn't getting false negatives. The thing was, at that time, I was exhibiting every stereotypical pregnancy symptom known to man, with no explanation. Mere weeks later, we conceived - unbeknownst to us - and so the pregnancy symptoms that I'd been experiencing earlier in October continued, even though this time, I actually was pregnant. I had NO clue.

I was nauseous October/November, but that subsided soon thereafter. I was very hungry earlier this year, and couldn't figure out why - and while I never refused myself food when I was hungry, I can't believe I maintained such huge self-control considering the fact that my body was making a baby the whole time. That would also explain why I was so tired earlier this year - to the point of physical exhaustion - I could sleep anywhere at any time. In January, I started experiencing severe sinus issues - despite flushing my sinuses with a saline solution twice a day, nothing helped. Every day (even now), I experience headaches - which are untouched by medication. Currently, I only experience mild nausea when the baby squishes my stomach - especially after eating. Over the past two weeks, I've noticed an incredible increase in frequency and intensity of movement - this little one takes after his active father, that's fo sho. And it's only been in the past week and a half that I've actually started to show - but every day I wake up and my 'baby bump' is larger than the previous day. That being said, I definitely do not look like I'm harboring a 23-week baby in my stomach. In my opinion, it looks like I got a little cray cray eating cheesecake and other such indulgent food.

I haven't had many cravings over the past 5 months... when I first got pregnant, I was on an apple kick. I would eat about 8 apples a day, and couldn't get enough of them. Around February, I lost myself in melons - watermelons, cantaloupes, and honeydew. And recently I've really had a hankering for eggs. Over the past week, I've found myself craving lactose-free, sugar-free vanilla ice cream.

Some people are probably worried about how the baby is doing considering my lifestyle and diet. The baby is perfectly fine - developmentally on track, as far as the ultrasound goes. I've spoken to my doctor and naturopathic doctor about my diet and lifestyle, and both are in full agreement that not only has the weight loss significantly benefited my pregnancy, but in not knowing I was pregnant for so long, my diet is probably one of the only things that has kept the baby as healthy as it is, considering the lack of medical care and intervention I've had. Again, I never starved myself - any time I was hungry, I ate. I did not overindulge, but I satisfied my hunger with healthy and nutritious alternatives. I drink more than enough water, and take vitamins and supplements daily to supplement those nutrients that I don't get through my diet. Since finding out that I'm pregnant, I have started taking a prenatal vitamin, and I've also allowed myself an extra 300 calories per day to accommodate the rapidly growing baby in my belly. That being said, most days I'm not hungry enough to eat all 300 extra... but I do my best to accommodate my hunger and my baby. My weight is where it should be at this point in the pregnancy, and from here on I'll be gaining weight with the growing baby - and that's okay with me :)

We could have found out the gender of the baby on Wednesday at the ultrasound, but were unable to as the baby was extremely active. We're hoping to find out at the next ultrasound :)

Like I mentioned earlier, Josh and I are still in shock, but we're over the moon. Anyone who knows me knows that my life-long dream has been to be a mom, and the discouragement and frustration I've experienced over the past couple of years in not having the opportunity fall into my lap has been really hard. I'm elated that my time has finally come, and that after years of knowing what I wanted to do in life, I actually get to DO it. It's hard watching everyone else go to school and graduate and get jobs in their fields of choice, knowing what careers they want to pursue and achieving them. For so long I have known that my career in life is to be a mom, and I finally get to be one!! And while I'm sure the magnitude of how our lives are going to change in a matter of months hasn't fully hit us yet, Josh and I are elated to be parents.

I'm so honored, privileged and humbled to be the mother of Josh's child. I couldn't ask for a better husband, friend or partner in this very wild, crazy, and unexpected adventure - and I know he's going to be an amazing father to any and all children God blesses us with.

So that sort of wraps up our story in a very small nutshell. If you have more questions or want to chat about it, please come and chat with us or give us a call or drop us an email. Yay! Babies everywhere!

Saturday, March 8, 2014

Hello, my name is Rebecca, and I'm a food addict.

Not your conventional title, and certainly not a post that I'm jumping up and down to write. I mean, in all honesty, I don't have to write this at all - let alone share it with all of you lovely folks, but I feel it necessary to share my experience with you, to help anyone else who might be in a similar situation, and to shed some light on my own personal struggles, so that others can understand me better.

As the title implies, I have an unhealthy relationship with food. That being said, we're not talking about an unhealthy relationship with cake or chips or pizza, I'm referring to all food. Now, a lot of people are going to be hugely uncomfortable with that overwhelming generalization that all food is problematic for me - in fact, most people are probably going to scoff at that preposterous thought. That's okay, you don't have to understand or even accept it about me, but it's true.

A while ago, God and I had a heart-to-heart. A real raw and emotional conversation about one of the "weeds in my backyard." It was just after I lost my first 80 lbs, stepping on the scale and weighing in under 200 lbs for the first time in... well, as long as I can remember. Just after that, I went hog-wild. I figured it was time I start living 'normally,' and eating like everyone else - even if it was "healthy" or paleo versions of regular food. I stopped counting my calories, I stopped caring about the quantity of food I was heaping on my plate. Everything went bad incredibly quickly. Right around the time that I hit rock-bottom emotionally, God spoke to me, in the still and quiet way He does. It was in this heartfelt and emotionally vulnerable moment that a realization, revelation or epiphany, came to me: I have an addiction - to food. Now a lot of you will be uncomfortable with calling me an addict, and if it really bothers you, you can use the biblical alternative, "glutton." If the bible talks about it, it's gotta be true, no?

My relationship with all foods is hugely unhealthy and not in the slightest bit 'normal.' I don't think about food or look at food the same way other people do. A regular person can spend their day thinking about work and people and special events, while I spend a large portion of my day thinking about food: how to avoid it, what I'd like to eat, how much of it I'd like to eat, what I should eat tomorrow, if I can afford to eat another apple, if my stomach is actually rumbling right now, if it's normal that I'm 'hungry' five minutes after eating that banana, if it's 9 o'clock yet so I can have my morning snack, if I should go to Superstore on my way home and pick up a melon snack tray for later, if I should go open a can of the zero-calorie, sugar free soda in my basement, if I should sweeten my tea with honey or Truvia... the list goes on and on. And honestly, this is no understatement. The degree to which I think about food on a daily basis is sickening, even for me. It's a non-stop parade of food-focused thinking. Even though my mind multitasks so I can be a productive and semi-functional individual, my subconscious is always on food. I wish I could turn my brain off most days, because it's overwhelming and hugely distracting. Even trying to explain this is difficult, because I don't think people realize how much of a constant battle I go through every minute, trying to withstand temptation and stay on track. How incredibly difficult it is to go to someone's birthday party and deal with the regular barrage of food-focused thoughts, not to mention the extreme temptation and pressure from my environment to eat a ton of food that I can not have, but desperately desire to shove in my 'pie-hole.'

Take for instance, an incident a few weeks ago. I found myself in the middle of a binge - it came on suddenly, and somewhat unexpectedly. Now, the typical person will binge on guilty pleasures and things they've been depriving themselves of... I do not. I will binge on my supper, on apples, bananas, grapes, almond butter, rice cakes, liver sausage, turkey pepperoni, cheese... the list goes on and on. The specific day I'm referring to, I consumed 6+ apples, an entire bunch of bananas (about 8), several heaping spoonfuls of almond butter, three bowls of healthy taco salad, several mugs of tea sweetened with heaping tablespoons of honey (not to mention the tablespoons of honey that I 'snuck' in my mouth as I was portioning it into my mug), several hundred grams of grapes, a few rice cakes... the list goes on. Hopefully you can see the problem here. I can overindulge on anything... my mind and my stomach do not have the "off" switch that my husband's do. All food is seen as fair game, and if I can self-medicate with it, I will. And that's essentially my relationship with food - it's all about self-medication. Numbing feelings I don't want there, finding an all-encompassing distraction from my frustrations or anxieties... soothing my hurts and pains, feeling the rush and surge of desperation as I shovel food quickly into my mouth. It's an intoxicating thought to me.

For that reason I really struggle to have things in moderation - sugar-free gum and candies are completely off limits for me, even if they do fall within my diet guidelines, I can't have just one piece of gum, I've got to eat the whole pack in a day. I can't have a cup of tea with honey because then I want ten super-sweet mugs of honey flavored with tea (nope, I didn't screw that up...). My challenges don't only lie in loving to chew and swallow and taste food, but in the quantity I can get inside of me. If I'd let myself sit down with a 5 lb bag of apples, I'd eat every single one - no problem. In the same breath, you could hand me an entire pack of chicken wieners and I'd eat all of those too. And then I'd drink an entire six-pack of zero-calorie, sugar-free ginger ale. And I could still eat more. Sure I'd feel sick, but my body doesn't get repulsed at the thought of more food - it will handle the pain, so long as I keep feeding the addiction. Even on a day when I binge, I can still eat paste the point of being physically ill. Getting sick with the flu? No problem, I have told myself that even if I can't keep it down - eating is the right thing to do, especially in excess, because think of all the nutrients you just flushed down the toilet. There is virtually nothing that will keep me from eating.

A lot of people say there is no such thing as "food addiction," but it begs the question that if that were true, why isn't everyone losing weight on their diets? And in that regard, I feel this is very true of me.

I feel frustrated when people ask me when I'm going to go "back to normal." No one would ever ask an alcoholic when they were going to start stockpiling Jack Daniels again, or when they'd start having another drink at a social function. I realize a lot of people don't realize the severity of my situation, but it's a very real and active battle that I have to overcome single day. And to be honest, a lot of people can't relate to the way being trapped in a body with a brain obsessed with food feels like. It sounds extreme and crazy, and too far out, and for that reason I'm sure I'll get some flack for posting this.

But to say that this post is any less than the honest-to-goodness truth about my struggle with food would be a lie. I do suffer from an addiction to food - all food, not just the food that's 'bad' for you, not just the food that's 'good' for you, but for anything that I can physically stick in my mouth and consume. That also being said, some foods trigger a more severe reaction than others - especially desserts and junk food. If I eat a honey-sweetened, gluten-free, black-bean brownie, regardless of how 'healthy' it is for you in comparison to a regular brownie, my body is triggered by the habits, behaviors and memories that eating brownies used to illicit in me, and I need more. So I have to stay away from those 'dangerous' items that cause me to fall into sin.

This addiction to food is a part of me, but it doesn't define me. And that's where the title of this blog post is a little misleading - I may struggle with the problem of food addiction, but it doesn't dictate my life, or rather, I don't let it. I mean yes, I will deal with this my whole life, and that being said, my entire life is now different because I won't ever be able to go back to the way I approached food over a year ago. My outlook has to be completely different and I need a more regimented and restrictive approach to how I deal with food and what I allow inside my body. But I don't plan on letting my addiction rule my life - I can still eat, and eat the foods I like and the foods I crave, I just have to work on my approach and I have to lean heavily on others for support in tempting situations.

I don't blame God for this sin that I struggle with. It's a sad genetic inheritance from Adam and Eve - a product of sin and death in this fallen world. We all have our demons that we have to face and battle with, this just happens to be one of mine. While my relationship with Christ isn't everything I want it to be, or everything it should be (for that matter), I've been learning to take this cross to Him every day to ask Him to help me carry it. Most often, He'll take it right off my shoulders and carry it for me - although some days He walks with me, and we carry the burden together. In that way, I am frustrated that the past year was a more difficult journey than it had to be, because I was trying to do it on my own. I didn't lean on God for much of anything in the past year, and it made battling this addiction even harder than it had to be. Today I can proudly say that I need Christ's help to drag this ball-and-chain of food addiction. I can never truly be free of it, but I can learn to live with it with His help, and on the really tough days I know I'm not alone. And instead of identifying myself as a "food addict" or "glutton," I can confidently define myself as saved, redeemed, forgiven, and God's very own special project - a work-in-progress. Which, if you ask me, is a much happier outlook all around.

That being said, I'm sure people will have questions or concerns about my post. If you do, please come to me with them. Don't let them stew in your mind when I'm more than willing to clarify or answer what I can. I hope this sheds some light on how, despite the fact that I've lost over 100 lbs, I'm still a work-in-progress - both physically and spiritually. I am not perfect, and this journey has been far from a flawless execution. I'm an imperfect person, trying to salvage my mistreated, neglected body and working on understanding and learning how to cope with a frustrating, and often debilitating, addiction such as mine. Every day is a struggle, like I said earlier, but it's an obstacle that I don't have to deal with on my own anymore. And for that, I'm really happy :)

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Comparison Post

I didn't always realize that I had a weight problem, I mean, not in the way I should've. I always defined myself as a "big-boned, good German stock" sort of girl. The kind that was 'just bigger than the other girls. I began to develop a loud and vibrant personality to mask my physical insecurities about my weight, heck - if my personality is too big for the room maybe people wouldn't judge how big I was or maybe my obnoxiousness will distract them from comparing me to themselves. My personality continually grew to fit my growing body, I was a thigh-slapping, first-to-admit-I-could-sit-on-you-and-kill-you kind-of lady, and I was all right with that. That being said, I never hated myself - I just suppressed my insecurities and planted an emotional flower garden of obnoxious, distracting colors and textures, to draw attention away from the obvious 'elephant in the room' situation.

It's not until recently that I began to discover that my personality, while still incredibly exuberant and full of attitude and no-nonsense-isms, is not solely based on an obnoxious display of attention-grabbing theatrics meant to draw my audience's attention away from my bulging waistline. It's a really big emotional and spiritual struggle to hash out these feelings, and really delve into the truth behind so many years of masking who I really was for fear of being made fun of or being judged for my size.

I often recall an incident way back in elementary school, when I was in Grade 5 or 6. I had worn a pair of black stretchy cotton 'shorts' to school, ones that hit just above my knee. They were stretched fairly taut over my large thighs, but I didn't feel uncomfortable or self-conscious about them at all - why should I? I was just a kid. I was sitting at my desk, doing math questions, minding my own business, when one of my classmates - a girl much larger than me (at the time) - walked up to me, groupie in tow, and told me that I shouldn't be wearing shorts 'that short' and that they made me look fat anyways. The two girls stood over my desk laughing and gloating, and I remember a burst of emotions that sent me running from my classroom to the principal's office. I wasn't sure what I was going to do there, but I knew I had to get away from the hurtful remarks my classmate had just dumped on me. Fortunately, one of my teachers pulled me into the principal's office, and crouched between my legs and looked me in my eyes and told me that I was beautiful. I remember crying more at that point because I certainly didn't feel beautiful or special. She told me that I didn't have to worry about what other people thought, because I was wonderful and beautiful always. That was a big turning point in my life in many ways - I remember cultivating a new stronger personality to shield me from destructive and hurtful comments in the future, as well as adopting the mentality that I was beautiful and wonderful and that no one could dictate who I would be. A powerful combination, if you ask me. And so the obnoxious, loud, resilient Rebecca was born.

Going through old pictures helps me remember some of the feelings that I buried deep inside me over the years, always using my personality as a cover-up for my insecurities and uncomfortable-ness with my weight.

My weight started getting very out of control, mid-to-late 2012. I was ballooning at an alarming rate, as evident by the pictures you'll see included below. It's hard to look at... to realize that I was in such a state of unhealth and disarray, that it was written clearly across my face and waistline for the whole world to see. The transformation is incredible - I am often shocked when people tell me that they don't recognize me anymore. I can't conceive changing so much as to not be recognized by family and friends, but honestly, comparing the pictures from 2010 to my reflection in the mirror today, I'm hardly the same person I was physically, mentally, emotionally or spiritually, that I was one, even two years ago. It's been a complete transformation from ground up.

One last note to leave you on before I leave you to the copious amount of pictures following... A few months ago, an acquaintance came up to me and told me how fabulous I was looking. She asked me about what I was doing, and told me that I looked phenomenal. It's always nice to hear compliments like that, and not always followed up with, "but not that you didn't always look beautiful" or "you were always gorgeous, but..." However, it's what she said to me following that really left a mark on my heart. She hugged me close and told me that I looked happy. Not that I wasn't a happy girl before, but that I seemed truly more happy than I'd been in a long time. I had to think about that, because it was so true. I've always been happy, but I'm happier now because my weight isn't a defining characteristic of me anymore. I'm not "Rebecca - the good German stock" or "Rebecca - divalicious redhead with ham thighs" or "Rebecca - the tank" or "Rebecca - the beast" or "Rebecca - flat-chested, voluptuous goddess." I'm Rebecca - the redhead who loves her life and her family and her friends and her God. I'm defined by all of the things that make me me, without being held back or categorized by my weight. It's so freeing and makes me feel like a reborn version of my old self.

The Before
2010