Monthly weigh in-

I managed to get up to 3mph. Heck yeah! I still struggle with it, but I'm definitely getting stronger.

My workout consists of carrying 2lb weights in each hand for about 8-10 minutes, while jogging at 3mph. Then just jogging (with no weights), until I complete 2 miles. I usually walk to cool down for about 10-15 minutes. All in all, my workout has been taking me about 50-55 minutes. I used to only jog at 2.5mph, and do 30 minutes. So my workout has increased dramatically. Sometimes it just flies by, but other times (especially when I increase my speed) it's a real struggle.

My eating... I stay around 1,500-1800cal, more often towards the upper limit than I'd like, and I know I would do better if I kept myself at 1500cal. It's really hard, but I'm working on it.

My weight has been at a standstill for the past 2 weeks, I also recently increased my workout so maybe things are just regulating. It's a little disheartening, but I know that if I stick with it, and maybe tighten in my calories more, I can get back on track.

So, my weigh in... I started at 227lbs, and I'm at about 211lbs now. I believe I've lost 6lbs this month. I can definitely see the progress now too.

Since March 17, 2012:
Weight loss: 16lbs
Inches off hips: 4in
Inches off waist: 3.5in

Since New Years 2011 though? I'm down 39lbs from my original starting weight of 250lbs. I've lost 6.5in off my waist and 4.5in off my hips. My neck is also 2in smaller, I'm down 2 pants sizes, and my bra size has went down 3 band sizes.

Not bad!

Pushing through it-

I completed my first 5k yesterday. Walking, mind you. My friend and I came in dead last, but you know what? It doesn't matter, because the only thing we wanted to do was to finish that race. And we did it. It took us an hour and four minutes.

The pace we set was a fast walk, and we were going as fast as I jog. Which dealt me a fair blow to my ego. But, considering I had to use my inhaler just walking it... well, asthma blows. I really want to jog/run faster, right now I'm only at 2.8mph, which is a drop in the bucket. It's the fastest I can go though. I tried going faster, but a minute on 3mph and my asthma started acting up, despite using my inhaler.

That scares me. I don't think some of the people in my life understand this, but asthma is a scary disease. It terrifies me to be taking deep lungfuls of air, and yet feeling like I'm suffocating. My legs burning with exertion, I can power through, but that? No way. I use my inhaler, and I breathe easier but in by no means solves the problem; it just helps.

I used to have nightmares of being chased by bad people or monsters, and not being able to run fast enough, having an asthma attack, and dying

I used my asthma as a crutch for many years, saying, "I can't run, I have asthma." Or, "I can't play that game, I have asthma." And while to a certain extent that's true, I could still have done something. I wasn't handicapped, I could have used my inhaler or sat down at any time. I would hope that the people in my life would have understood. But it was just easier, and less frightening, to say, "I can't do that."

I don't want to live like this anymore. I have to find the balance between my limitations and what I can do.

I really like jogging, I like the feel of my feet hitting the treadmill, listening to a rhythmic song on my mp3 player, and letting my mind wander. I love the feeling of accomplishment I get when I make it to the next mile.

It's not the best exercise for someone with asthma. But man, I love it.

Rough week-

It's just been a rough week. V is spitting up a lot and cranky. I'm covered with bruises because I am coordination challenged, my favorite mishap seems to be walking into the coffee table. Although I did walk into the end of the wood framed futon the other day, and I have a hand sized bruise on my thigh to prove it. Ugh. I also seem to enjoy hitting my elbows on the cupboards- resulting in yet more bruises! I don't know what's wrong with me.

Oh, and then we had a small electrical fire the other day. We were damn lucky I was downstairs and awake when it happened, and the cats alerted me to the issues... in case the thumping/popping/buzzing noises weren't enough to clue me in. I quickly put the fire out with a fire extinguisher, and ran to the basement to flip the breaker switch to kill the power. So then we spent the rest of the night fixing that and cleaning up the mess from it. Luckily it didn't spread anywhere except that outlet, it didn't get the floor or the curtains... it was as contained as it could be. But it was SCARY as HELL.

I don't know if I ever mentioned on here, but my biggest fear (aside from the zombie apocalypse) is having my house catch fire. My great-grandmother died in a house fire when my grandma was only six. She had ran back in because she thought the kids were still in the house, and then she died a few days later in the hospital as a result of that fire. I don't know why, but that has been a huge phobia of mine since I heard that story. So there you go... But, everything is alright. The house is okay, we're okay; I'm a little shaken, but I'm fine.

We went to a gaming convention today, hoping to get a photo with some geeky stars we love. We missed them because we were running late, and won't have a chance to try again tomorrow unfortunately... so I'm a bit bummed about that. That's really not a big deal though, considering! However, while we were there  I noticed that I developed a migraine. Now, I used to get migraines several times a week, and until today I didn't even realize that I've been migraine free for months. Like, I didn't even NOTICE. I've gotten 1-3 migraines a week since I was a child, I got used to them and I learned to function through the pain (it sucked)... and yet, I just went months without one. Now I want to know what I did to bring this one on... or rather, what was keeping them away in the first place? I mean, I got a headache here and there over the past few months, but I honestly can't remember my last migraine. I forgot how much they sucked. Ugh.

So, rumble ramble... I'm grumpy, the week hasn't been going to plan... but we're okay.

5 months-

It's crazy that time seems to move so slowly, yet it runs laps right past me. Tomorrow marks 5 months since I had my amazing little guy. He's babbling more, grabbing more, and starting to sit with less and less assistance. Everyday I'm reminded how lucky I am, and in awe of what a wonderful gift he's been.

Jogging along-

Another month down of watching my calories, or two months total. For the last two weeks I've even been jogging too- and it feels great. I have to say one thing though... thank goodness for my inhaler! My asthma is a pain, but I'm slowly rebuilding my lung capacity. Yesterday I jogged 1.25miles and fast walked another quarter of a mile while I cooled down; I only stopped for like a minute to walk and catch my breath while jogging. I know that might not seem like much, but for me it's awesome! Hopefully soon I can plow through the entire 30 minutes of jogging without a break at all. I always use my inhaler, but that's a given. My asthma isn't going to go away, but I can make it more manageable.

I had a setback over the week leading up to Mother's Day. I was eating pretty bad and I forgot to take my Metformin for an entire day. As a result, I gained back 1-2lbs. Yeah, that's not pretty. Ugh. I'm back on track though. I have to add... SODA IS THE DEVIL! I don't drink it generally, since it has so many calories, but I let myself over the week because I was just exhausted. The pick-me-up was nice at the time, but probably not worth it.

So where am I at now?

Since March 17th:
Weight loss: 10lbs
Inches off waist: 2
Inches off hips: 2

Heck yeah! I wish it was going down faster, but I'll take what I can get. My clothes don't really fit any different yet, so it's hard for me to gauge my progress. I think most of the weight off the hips is from things still righting themselves after my c-section, so I don't really know if I can claim that as my own doing.

Oh, and I seem to have lost some from my, ahem... bust.

I'm cool with that.

Mother's Day-

This Mother's Day went better than the last five. I am forever grateful for my little man, V. We went to my favorite park and just enjoyed the scenery. V got to see the geese and ducks up close, and man did that confuse him! Haha. He was very serious about everything, but interested. It was a wonderful afternoon. Really.

But, my thoughts kept wandering. I never celebrated Mother's Day before now; not because I didn't think our other children should count, but because the date served as a painful reminder of everything I'd lost. I was pregnant four times, whether anyone else wants to admit it or not. I have four children, and only one here with me.

People kept wishing me a "Happy first Mother's Day," it made me consider, once again, what makes a mother. Have I been a mother all this time? I like to think so. Everyone in my life acts like only V counts though, and it conflicts me. How I mother them is unarguably different: for V I feed him, carry him, change his diapers, tend to his every need. For the others, my body failed them and I was helpless to prevent their loss. I carry them in my heart, I remember them, love them, but I can never do for them that which I do for V. I will never know them like I've grown to know my V. It's different, but I love them all. I just think that should count for something.

The scars we're left with-

There have been a lot of pregnancy announcements lately. I guess spring has sprung. I have an easy enough time with most of them, coming from people I know who have waited for this with longing. Some of them have been totally unexpected though, leaving me feeling like the wind has been knocked from my lungs and I'm gasping for reason.

I have a child now. People assume (wrongly) that I am over what I've been through; that a child "fixed" my infertility. If only it were that easy. I never went into this thinking my son would be my cure- he was my goal, but I would never put the weight of resolving all my issues on his tiny shoulders. That is for me to carry, and me alone. My husband may help me shoulder the burden, but he has his own to carry from what we've been through. It was never up to anyone else to save me.

So despite having my heart's desire squealing in his swing as I type this, I still ache. I ache for the children I never brought home, the children I may never have, the future that I can't imagine. Will I ever have more children? I don't know. That's hard to think about sometimes. I like to think I will, but I can't say I will for certain. My son gave me hope again, but he did not give me a guarantee. No one can give me that.

Our tree is huge this year, and I can't believe that it's been almost four years since we planted it. Almost four years since we lost the first one. When I was pregnant, people told me to move on, to embrace my son and not to dwell on the ones I lost. I don't understand why they think that remembering the past and embracing the present have to be exclusive. Surely you can remember and honor those who went before, while loving what you have today? It's not like I'm depressed and not coping- grieving is how you cope, it's not a timer where when the buzzer rings it's done. Grief doesn't simply end.

So, yes, I still have a hard time with pregnancy announcements, with huge bellies, with people joking about it, with births, with people talking about plans on having more like it's as easy as all that. I have trouble with people asking us when we're going to have more, like what we've been through doesn't even matter.

And sometimes I look at my son, and I wonder what the others would have looked like. He's such a perfect blending of the both of us, that you can't really pick any feature out and say, "Yes, that's definitely from me," or "That's definitely from you." I wonder if one of them have been a girl. Would she have looked like me? Would one have favored A? Could we have had another boy? Would they have been like V or completely different? Would they have been as serious and independent as V, or would one of them have been a cuddler, a joker, an explorer? I know that everyone else had already stopped thinking about them, that all they ever were for most was a passing thought. That thought hurts the most, because they were so much more to me.

I don't want them to be forgotten.

I am happy. I'm happier than I've ever been in years! But I will never forget, I will never get over it. I don't need to stop thinking about my infertility, my losses, the last 5 years of my life- I'm making peace with them, even if it takes me all my life, but I can't do that if I shove everything in the closet like some people want me to. It doesn't work like that. I'm riddled with invisible scars, constant reminders of what I've been through, and that's okay.