My Pledge

So my readers will know that when I was pregnant I had horrific gestational diabetes.  It was nasty.  I had to stick a needle in my finger and test glucose two hours after every meal.  I had to inject my stomach with insulin before every meal.  I couldn't eat anything that vaguely resembled sugar, and could eat only a minimum of carbs since they converted rapidly to the evil stuff also.  As a gluten intolerant pregnant woman this meant I lived on cheese and nuts.  And I don't even like cheese much (except the soft ones which were off the list for pregnant women, of course... ).  It was exceedingly unpleasant, and I mentally survived by counting down the days to the birth of normality... having a baby was thrilling, but eating like a normal person vied for placing on my excitement podium.  So in the midst of that time the horrifically expensive endochronologist cheerfully informed me that I had developed the gestational diabetes because my body was having to work harder as my belly expanded, and that it kicked in when my my body reached its pressure threshold at roughly 75kgs... Her advice was that I needed to see the diabetes diet as a long term lifestyle change because if I ever reached 75kg again, after the pregnancy, then I would be likely to develop Type 2 diabetes for real.  At the time I scoffed, and swore that I would never allow that to happen... I would have this baby and then lose lots of weight quickly, exercise lots (I mean what else would I have to do with my time when I was on maternity leave - I thought) and eat well and I would not only return to my pre-baby body, I would improve it.  I was determined to be a svelt yummy mummy - with a new found motivation now that I had a little one to set a good example for, and to run around after....
Hmmmm
The reality was, of course, that I was wildly naive.  I spent the first couple of months enjoying guilt free cheesecake after all those months of sugar deprivation...and then well... I was simply exhausted, all the time, tired, drained, at times overwhelmed, but mostly just bone weary.  I felt like a had no time for myself, and the moments I did get I spent staring blankly at a wall, just breathing slowly, doing the bare minimum that I could.  I got by, and still do, on roughly 4-5 hours of broken sleep a night.  Sure - I took out a gym membership, I even managed to get to sessions with a trainer for half an hour a week.  But at the same time I ate... what ever was nearby... what ever made me feel full... and then in between I ate whatever I wanted to reward myself with.  And the results started to show... I kept wearing my maternity clothes... I unpacked my old clothes in anticipation of being able to wear them "soon"...but they hung unworn and after a while I started buying bigger, looser, floppier disguises.... the belly I wore proudly when it had a baby in it was still sticking out but the stretchy t-shirts had a totally different effect and one that made me shudder in the mirror.  So I moved the little tops aside for the kaftans... and kept thinking somehow a miracle would happen and I would find my inner yummy mummy... meanwhile I kept eating whatever found its way into my mouth, and sleeping little, and mostly wandering slowly in a daze of tiredness conserving the little energy I had for essentials, like feeding the baby, cleaning my teeth, putting on another load of washing.
And so I not only didn't lose the baby weight, I started putting on more....
And now, to my horror, I find myself weighing in at 72kg.  I suddenly realise that I am a mere cheesecake away from diabetes.  I am a few weeks of indulgence away from a lifetime of needles and extreme deprivation.  I am mere inches from a life that is limited by having to have refrigerated insulin on me at all times, having to eat something sugar free and gluten free every two hours.  I would be waving good bye to intrepid travelling, to freedom, to health and vitality and flexibility and choice.
And suddenly I realise that this is now serious folks.
I have made a few hundred weight loss plans in my lifetime.  I have dabbled with all the major weightloss schemes in the past when chronic fatigue saw me balloon 15 kg in a few years.  Some worked a little, some didn't at all.  I have searched in vain for a miracle flab cure.  I haven't found it.  But what I do know is that I have to do something and this time it has to work.  Now it is not just about fitting into that little skirt or looking cute - its about being alive and strong for my daughter.  And my daughter has a double sided gene risk of diabetes herself (my grandmother and my donor's mother) - so together we have to beat this demon.
I haven't wanted to talk about it...I have been embarrassed, I have been ashamed... but now I need to put all of that aside.  I need to take this pledge, privately and publicly.  Its not going to be easy, in the past I have found losing weight very hard, and I am going to need all the support I can get. 
So I pledge now - for me, for my child, for our future.... I will lose 12 kilos by next Christmas.
I hated the way I looked in our christmas photos this year.  Next year I want to smile and be proud in the photos of these incredibly special moments.
My dear friend knows about my struggle with committing to a goal - so she sent me the SMART goals outline - Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Results Orientated, Timebound.  So here is my SMART goal analysis.... 
S - Specific  : I will lose 12 kg by changing my diet and lifestyle in a way which I consider sustainable as a long term healthy way of living.
M - Measureable :  My target is 12 kg body weight.  I am doing body measurements at the gym next week so I will form some concrete body shape goals as well then.
A - Achievable : 12 kgs over 12 months is a realistic rate of sustainable weight loss which will allow for some periods of "time out" or reward for hard work without the overall goal being threatened.
R - Results Oriented : It’s the result that counts, not the intent. No excuses. No rewards for "being good" unless it shows on the scales.
T - Timebound :  I am not doing a radical 12 week program, or expecting immediate miracles.  Over 12 months I will change my lifestyle and set new habits and patterns for myself and my family.  But I have a specific time target - I can clearly visualise Christmas Day next year... me, 12 kilos smaller and feeling proud - celebrating not just my child's second christmas, but my own success - celebrating my self honouring, my commitment to myself and my health, my ability to set a goal and do what it takes to reach it.

This I will do.

This I pledge.