Anyway, so, this hcg stuff SUCKS during that time of the month, man. I'm glad that I had a HUGE loss before my TOM hit, because I'd have hung up the towel. When it started, I had lost 10 pounds in about a week. During the entire next week, I lost 2 more pounds. It was HARD to stick to an eating plan when the scale wasn't reflecting my hard work. But, even though the SCALE was stuck, I saw some other amazing changes in my body that helped me keep moving.
First of all, I got myself into size 12 jeans in time for the Gingerbread Party last weekend. So that was awesome, and a huge reminder and motivator to stay on course during the party.
And, then of course, the next day, I tried on my size 10 "skinny" jeans and they made it up over my butt.
Then, the other night, while I was in the pit of despair over the numbers on the scale, just for shits and giggles, I decided to try on my engagement ring.
I haven't really worn my engagement ring since I was pregnant with my first daughter, about six years ago. And that really bugged me, because, man, I LOVE my engagement ring. It's exactly what I wanted, and I'm still not sure how my husband knew exactly what I wanted. It's a perfect pear shaped diamond, with five small diamonds set in a channel on either side. Love it, love it, love it. And every time I look at it, I remember that night at the Union Station Restaurant in Flemington, NJ, where I looked at my boyfriend across the table and impetuously grabbed his hand and said, "I'm happy. I'm really, really happy." A better moment for a wedding proposal never presented itself.
Of course, he didn't have the ring in his pocket at that second. It was waiting out in the truck. Come on, you can't make this stuff up. But, we did decide to exchange our Valentine's day gifts that night, the night before VDay, instead of waiting till the morning. He couldn't wait.
When I opened the box and he got on his knee, I started crying and laughing and jumping up and down, and, oh crap, I'm getting misty.
Anyway, point is, I LOVE this ring. In addition to it being exactly what I wanted, the memory associated with it just warms me right up from the inside out. Even when it's only 26 degrees outside, like today.
So, I've really been missing it for the past six years. Which is why, when I slipped it on my finger the other night, I shrieked and jumped up and down and cried and laughed. It was kind of like the first time it was slipped on my finger all over again.
Incidentally, I haven't taken it off since.
Yesterday, getting ready for church, I decided to take a chance and try on my size 11 jeans. If worse came to worst, I'd put them back in the skinny jeans pile and put those size 12s back on and be happy. But, guess what? THEY FIT!
Joey made a comment about my muffin top. I decided to let her live, because, muffin top or no, I was WEARING SIZE 11 JEANS.
When it was time to lie down with my little monkeys to get them to sleep, I took off my size 11 jeans and threw on a pair of lounge pants I'd gotten from Old Navy about six years ago. I was pregnant with Joey, and wasn't quite into maternity clothes yet, but I couldn't fit in my regular clothes, either. So I went to Old Navy, and found these awesome pants, that have a fold down waist, so I could fold it UP and it could cover my little baby bump very effectively, and still stay on my butt.
I have never been able to wear them with the waist folded down. I gave up trying a long time ago. My belly was such that, if I wore them folded down, they'd fall. Also? They made my belly look that much bigger folded down. I didn't need help in that department.
Last night, I folded those suckers down, looked at myself sideways in the mirror, and said "Crap, I wish I'd taken photos from the side instead of just the front." Because, y'all, I see a HUGE difference from the side. HUGE.
I walked out of my bathroom and into the kitchen and said to my husband, "Look at this! I never could wear these folded down before!" and he looked up from the very important envelope stuffing he was doing at our dining room table and said. "You are doing, really, really well." Uh. Thanks? "No, I mean it, like, you wouldn't think 14 pounds would make that much of a difference, but really, it's a HUGE difference." Huh. That's just what I was thinking.
Okay, all this WOOHOOing has to have a point, yes? Point is, the scale stopped moving, but the fat didn't. HCG doesn't just help you lose weight and lose fat. It also MOVES the fat you've got. It redistributes it, so that your clothes fit again. And your rings. MY RING. I'm watching the light bounce off my gorgeous engagement ring as I type, right now. I am amazed that I have it on my finger.
Oh, and. The scale is moving again. Not as hugely as it was moving originally, but that's too be expected. As of this morning, I'm down 14.8 pounds. Halfway there, folks. Halfway, in a little over two weeks.
Oh, and, one more and. This morning? I'm wearing size 10 mommy waist jeans. Still can't button the size 10 hipsters. But they're next.
Crap, I'm going to have to go buy new clothes! ;-)