When the 31st of December rolled around last year i really wanted to write this post but i couldn't. I wasn't ready to write it and i wasn't ready to commit to it. My last post was a while ago, back in august last year. there have been many topics that have flit in and out of my mind over the interceding months but I struggled with writing about them, almost as if writing about something else would mean i no longer grieved for our son. With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight I can see now that the final months of last year i was operating in survival mode. Most of the time i was clinging hard to the one thing that i could control and have a positive impact upon. My weight.
I started the year last year 20kgs down from my highest weight ever of 116kgs, i was feeling great and very proud of my accomplishments. Then i fell pregnant with Jonathon and the first trimester symptoms were horrible; i had never felt so sick and tired and head-achy and dizzy. As any mother will tell you, you do what you can to survive during those first months, exercise made me faint or vomit so i cut it out completely, eating meals was the last thing i wanted to do so i existed on high calorie snacks and junk food. Obviously my weight crept back up but i didn't really mind, i knew i could lose it all again with some hard work. Then Jonathon died. for the first few days after we met our son and said goodbye i had little to no interest in food and then food become my comfort crutch. Until one day when i couldn't do up my "fat" pants... and all the anger and frustration at what had happened and the hopelessness i felt flooded in with vengeance.
So i exercised, and ran, and boxed and squatted and jumped and cycled as if when i got enough of a run-up i could break through the ball of pain in my chest and be "me" again, normal Kath. I also started counting calories, viciously controlling every morsel that went into my mouth and beating myself up for hours if i went over my allotted daily calories (or days if it was a big blow out). Most days i went to bed with a net calorie deficit, i.e. every calorie i had consumed during the day had been accounted for by exercise, and then some. And the weight started coming off, the clothes started fitting better and people started to compliment me on how well i looked... so i went harder, cut more calories and exercised for longer. I surpassed my pre-pregnancy weight and for the first time in my life was no longer considered obese (well according to the wildly inaccurate BMI anyway).
And i ended up exhausted... being the practical person i am i assumed i had just over trained, pushed to hard and now my body was pushing back, demanding the rest i had denied it for months. I pulled back for a few days, limiting my exercise to my normal walking around town, but it didn't help. I also started having difficulty falling asleep of a night, So i went to the doctor about my insomnia and how tired i was; given my history i was expecting a diagnosis of depression or similar mental health issues. He highlighted depression as a likely possibility but send me off for blood tests and an ECG to be sure there wasn't another underlying physical condition contributing to the problem. It came back that my thyroid was working too hard, an ultrasound showed quite a few nodules or cysts (cant remember what they were called) and my thyroid was enlarged. Further blood tests were ordered to investigate more thoroughly and showed that my thyroid was under attack by my own immune system, possibly triggered by my pregnancy and possibly a major contributing factor in my baby boy's death. To get a clearer picture of what was happening i needed to wait a while and have more blood tests to give the specialist additional data points to plot on his graph and provide a definitive diagnosis. Meanwhile i was NOT TO GET PREGNANT- fine by me!
a week or so after my first specialist appointment my energy levels began to return and i threw myself back into exercise as if i had never stopped. Pounding the pavement regularly i finally ran my first ever 5km and was pleased as punch. i also started my training for the 100km Oxfam trailwalk in April this year, walking 20-30kms every Saturday and increasing my daily walks about town. i had several weeks of feeling okay and made it down to an all time low of 86kgs (8kgs of a healthy weight range) and then shortly into the new year i ran into a brick wall (figuratively speaking). i could barely get off the lounge and i was beyond exhausted. i had no strength in my arms or legs, even climbing the stairs to bed was a challenge. To go from running 5kms to this pathetic lethargy was the last straw. Functioning within survival mode ground to a halt.
I had engaged survival mode mid-June. On the surface, I was the same person but many of the deeper operations were locked off to me, inaccessible in survival mode. My close friends noticed the difference but most were at a loss as to how to effect any change, as was I. Now I'm not knocking survival mode, it has a grand purpose. i was able to continue being a friend, wife and mother while blocking out the pain and grief with exercise and tight self-discipline. The problem is survival mode isn't designed for long-term applications. Laying on the lounge for days and hitting snooze between 6 and 10 times every morning, I lamented the loss of my active lifestyle but finally began to address and process my grief again.
the process has been long and often painful, obviously i still have a long way to go but I'm hoping that 2012 can be the year that i become the person I've always wanted to be, both externally and internally. Having my son has taught me a lot about myself. I am both stronger and "weaker" (where weak indicates softness rather than a derogatory term) than i ever imagined and that's okay. Today i picture my little boy in Heaven with all the other little angels, playing games and watching over their mummies and families. I want Jonathon to look down at me and say to his friends "See there, that's my mummy, she is so strong and gentle and loving, and I'm so proud of her".
In February Elianna will turn 3 and celebrate with her friends- Jonathon will be there and he'll be proud of what a fun and loving mum i am.
In March I'll have a birthday and I'll enter into the final year of my 20s- he'll be proud that I'm the healthiest i have ever been and in a year i will be entering my thirties fit and healthy and within an ideal weight range.
In April I'm walking 100kms through bush and over mountains to raise money and awareness for Oxfam's fight against world poverty- he'll be proud of my strength and determination.
In November I'll be walking down the aisle in front of my very best friend as she prepares to marry the love of her life - he'll be there hand in hand with her mum, celebrating the love they share and he'll be happy that I had the courage to let her go to a wonderful man who will always take care of her.
Thankfully today is Chinese New year (the year of the dragon, a year of change... as if last year wasn't), so i can still write it as a new year, new beginnings post, and its not really late.. is it?
2011 was without question the biggest year of my life, an interstate move, a pregnancy, my first baby becoming a little girl and all the challenges (and the many more rewards) that parenting a toddler entails, and of course losing my dear son Jonathon. 2012 is going to be big in an entirely different way. i hope you all come along for the journey. I am going to try to write weekly, so i hope you enjoy the next part of the Melbourne chapter: New beginnings
