Weight Loss and TTC Diaries

I guess this blog is slowly shifting toward a sort of online diary, which is fine since it doesn't seem like anybody is really reading this. LOL. If someone does decide to read this, though, I think that would be good. Then maybe they would know that someone else feels the same way that they do. Maybe this will give some some words to their experience. Or maybe not. Whatever. It's just good for me to get this out there.

A while back I posted something about how trying to conceive has put me in this position of being very disappointed in my body, since it's not doing what I'm asking of it. I (seemingly) cannot get pregnant, and it's totally out of the scope of my control. I can do things to improve my chances, but at the end of the day, it's still just chance. My desire to punish my body for it's lack of cooperation mingles with my desire for control. Add to that pride issues: believing that if I can't get pregnant (and have a "mom bod") then I must be hot instead. All these factors mix together, resulting in me restricting food intake and doing a lot of ab crunches.

There was a span of about two weeks a few months ago when my lack of nutrition and over-exercise led to me feeling kind of fuzzy and dull. I recognized that I was feeling poorly, came out of that, started eating more, and felt better. But I can't really say that the feelings I had about my body have gone away. I still want to be hot. I still want to be in control. I still hate my body for not performing the way I want it to. And because of that, I keep moving my target weight lower and lower each time I achieve it.

I was admittedly a little pudgy about a year and a half ago, weighing over 170 pounds. I lost fifteen pounds over the course of a year and was well back in the "healthy" BMI range. This should have been enough for me. The initial weight loss goal had been implemented before my TTC troubles really kicked off. I think it was the right decision to get that weight off. But by the time I accomplished that weight loss, my infertility started to take its toll on me. And being in the healthy BMI range was no longer all that I wanted. So I lost another 8 pounds over the first few weeks of 2021. Then that still didn't make me happy. I decided I would lose three more pounds, which would put me dead in the middle of the "healthy" BMI range. Then I reached that goal. Now I look at myself and I still see flab and fat and no tone at all. I've reached the conclusion that I should try to weigh what I weighed when I got married, the least I've ever weighed since puberty. (About 136 pounds)

I haven't felt weak or sick again since that time a few months ago, but I wonder how much more I can push myself before I get back to that point. I'm not tracking calories or carbs or anything like that, so I can't be sure if I'm eating too little or too much. I'm trying to work out more diligently, at least four or five times a week for 40 minutes. I try to do more intense exercises. Lately, I've been swimming laps at the city pool. From my perspective, nothing I'm doing seems excessive or over-the-top, nothing seems unhealthy, habit-wise. But since the emotional source of this behavior is still overwhelmingly negative, I do feel concerned that I could be heading toward something bad. But the last thing I want to do right now is to stop trying to lose weight.