Why I'm really doing this...

Things have been hectic--but incredibly exciting lately.

I haven't blogged in a while, but if I were to tell you things were "same old, same old," I'd be lying.

Why?

Cause Mr. CCC and I are now a very proud uncle and aunt. Mr. CCC's sister had a lovely little daughter last weekend and I can't tell you how excited we are. My niece is an absolute doll and I am already spoiling her. She and her mom are both doing really well (even if mom's a little sleep-deprived) and everyone is in love with her.

Her mom just sent us a link to the newest pictures and I have to admit--I teared up looking at them. Happy tears of course! Babies just bring such joy and this little one is so special.

The entire experience of watching my sister-in-law become a mom has been wonderful. And it's been an eye-opening reminder of why I'm doing this.

There are so many reasons I'm losing weight. Looking good and being healthy are right up there, no doubt about it. But for me, the reason is a whole lot more personal.

I really want to be a mom and I know that at the weight I am, that's just not good.

Seeing my sister-in-law hold my niece was amazing--and yet, for me, slightly terrifying. It hit me--what if I can't have that moment? What if this body, that I have used and abused for so long, doesn't cooperate? What if I'll never get to see my husband, who I adore, hold a baby we created together?

It's so weird--we've been married nearly four years. The questions about when we'd procreate started the moment we walked down the aisle. For most of that time, we'd give people the standard, "We're not ready yet" line.

What a cruel joke it is when your head is finally ready, but your body isn't.

When I saw my doctor last September, I told her my concerns...and she told me it was good I was concerned. At 230-something pounds (where I was when I saw her), my body was in no shape to make a baby. A pregnancy at that weight would be riskier than a normal pregnancy. It'd be more stress on my joints and my bones. But she was happy that I was doing something about my weight on my own.

And she even gave me hope. My doctor told me there was no need for me to pressure myself and feel I had to be at my GOAL weight to try and get pregnant. She said she'd be happy if I was in the neighborhood of 175 and told me that if I was a little bit overweight, I likely wouldn't gain much during my pregnancy.

I am bowing to her better judgement, since her walls were full of fancy medical school diplomas and all, and targeting 175. But that still feels so far away.

It's why the plateaus and the gains have been so frustrating. I keep thinking to myself, "I've wasted the first 29 years of my life being fat...it's time to get healthy. Doing that before 30 would be nice."

For the record--30 is in late July. And that's the plan I figured out with my trainer...to get me at 175 by August 1, all I'd have to do was lose 1.5 pounds per week. Manageable. Doable.

But on Week 1 with the BodyBugg, I stayed the same. This week I only lost one pound. I have never thought about my long-term goal of 145...that seemed so far away. Now even 175 seems like it's an eternity from where I am.

Sure, I see the progress I'm making. Mr. CCC and I donated two bags worth of my old clothes this weekend. I look at pictures taken of me recently and I don't cringe (much) anymore. But I feel like I'm in a race with myself, with my body, with my fertility.

And being around my niece has reminded me that it's a race I have to win, no matter how hard it gets.