Tuesday, August 16, 2011

What Have You Done For me, Lately?

Deuteronomy 29:29
The secret things belong to the LORD our God,
but those things which are revealed belong to us
and to our children forever,
that we may do all the words of this law.

In 2008, I considered myself fat. Not the cute fat, as in "F.A.T" that the comedienne Mo'Nique said stood for "Fabulous and Thick." And not even like the slang term "PHAT", that means "cool", "hot", "positive." I mean, just plain old FAT! Overweight! Husky! Big! XXL Large! I considered myself fat. I was definitely too wide, to only be 5'4 tall. So, I started an eating plan, working out constantly, and dropped 50lbs in about 4 to 5 months. And because I actually changed my eating habits, and the way I looked at food, I was able to keep the weight off. Now, I do like an occasional piece of cheesecake, a pint of ice cream, cookies, and/or a bag of chips every now and again. But still, I managed to stay within 15lbs of the weight loss.

When I got pregnant with my son, I was eating healthy and working out anywhere from 3 to 5 hours a week. I love working out. I think I'm some kind of endorphine "junkie." It really is a high for me. I feel like I can do anything, achieve any goal within 15 to 20 minutes of working out.

While I was pregnant, I had this fantasy of "rushing" the gym everyday, and keeping up my workout schedule well into at least my 7th month. I have NO idea where this thought came from, because I (of all people) know that I had morning sickness with my daughter well into my 28th week. And once again, with my son the morning sickness besieged me at week 10 and went on until week 37. Still, I was so sick with my son, that I lost weight every month, and was able to wear my regular clothes (as I did with my daughter) up until the day of delivery.

Here's where things went to the left. My son was put into the NICU about ten hours after his birth. He stayed there for five days. On the fourth day, he was given a DEVASTATING diagnosis. After this diagnosis was received, I went into a depression. It was a situation where I had to function. I mean, I had a newborn at home, and my daughter was into the throes of her junior year of high school (a very important year, that colleges look at). Things had to be done, tasks had to be completed. There was doctor appointment, after doctor appointment for my son. I just kept chugging along, but I was sinking. So, to keep myself afloat, I ate. Comfort food. Tons of it. Bags of cookies. Shrimp scampi six days a week. Buttered popcorn. Twelve packs of pop. Entire cheesecakes. Entire pound cakes. Pint after pint of ice cream. All the while, trying every month to pregnant.

Needless to say, I am FAT, again.

However, the black cloud is no longer hanging over my head, and I am starting to see clearly. Hear clearly. And what the Lord said to me, is that I have been trying to control an egg and a sperm. I've taken the vitamins, I've bought the ovulation predictor kit, I've timed the sex, I've visualized said egg and said sperm meeeting up for a rendevouz, I've done it all. But how can I control that? I wasn't in control of the egg or the sperm when my daughter was conceived. Nor was I inside my own uterus directing "traffic" when the sperm met up with the egg that created my son. So, why now, would I have any more control over things? I don't.

The Lord told me to spend my time controlling what I can control. And what I can control is what I put into my mouth, and what kind of care I take of my body. So, I'm back on my eating plan, and for the last five days, I've been working out. And I realized that I'm still a junkie. I still get high from endorphines. And even more, I feel FABULOUS. Because I realize that the weight of "getting me pregnant" doesn't lie on my (or my husband's) shoulders. That's God's business. And I will gladly hand it BACK over to Him.

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