I put on my big girl panties, slipped on my new shoes and I wish I could finish this sentence with "put on my scrubs" and went back to work today. Well, yes... I did go back to work. But being the procrastinator I am, I waited until 11pm to unpack all my scrubs. All 1,456 pairs and not one pair, not a single one fit. Even those "fat pants" that should fit wouldn't even go over my thighs. ::insert profanity here::
Then this morning I had my last appointment with my OB and when I saw the number on the scale it hit home that I need to step it up in the workout department and stop stuffing my face with sugar. I even had to invest in new scrubs today before going to work, I needed something... Anything.
I'm trying, I really am. I was pretty discouraged when I saw that number considering it hasn't budged in 4 weeks despite my workouts and semi-healthier eating. But I am convinced going back to work, getting back in a routine and eating even healthier, I'll hopefully fit back into my scrubs sometime in the next year.
So work went great, it's nice, refreshing and I am really excited about my new place. CC spent the day with Daddy and I couldn't help but beg for pictures of him all day. And when I walked in the door, saw those big blue eyes stare back at me and the tears stopped the second I picked him up, I am reminded that every single pound I gained and every single pound I still have and every stretch mark was 110% worth it. I don't care if my scrubs are 2 sizes bigger for a few months or if the numbers on the scale are the higher that I have ever seen them. All that matters is I have CC, he's healthy and he came home. I have all the time in the world to lose my 4 extra love handles and fit back into a bra they actually sell at Vicki's.
I can do it, it just won't happen over night. And I realize tonight, that's okay.