Grace, the beginning.

Many moons before my daughter Grace, I was an avid runner and health nut. My obsession with fitness began in 2012, the year my daddy passed away. At that time, I needed something to occupy my mind, and keep me from thinking about all the things I wish I had said before he left this world. So I focused on eating better, drinking protein shakes, and (heaven help), bootcamp workouts, of all things. I tracked my food using the MyFitnessPal app, weighed myself once a week, and literally worked my grits off. As it turns out, losing weight ain’t so easy when you have hypothyroidism AND you’re over 30. But I was desperate and determined.

For two solid years, all I thought about every day was how to be more fit. I was completely consumed. And by 2014, I had started down a dangerous path. I had replaced bootcamp with interval running, because I discovered that I could lose more weight at a faster rate that way. Of course, running on its own is certainly not a bad thing; however, when paired with consuming 1000 calories a day at most, it can become a problem – especially since I am 5’9″, and genetically, I was never meant to be the stick figure I was trying so hard to be. My obsession with being “healthier” had turned into an obsession with being “small” instead, even if it meant I had to starve myself and run on fumes.

The smaller I got, the more confident I felt. That confidence took me places I never thought I’d go, like Texas, for example. In late 2014, I met my now husband at a health-related conference in Texas. (Ironically, I had just gotten my heart broken by someone I never should have trusted, and was in no shape to meet anyone decent.) But this man, let me tell you… he chased me down. It didn’t matter that I lived halfway across the country, he was determined to prove himself and win me over. After many, MANY hours of video calls, texts, and uprooting his entire world to be with me, he showed me that true love DOES actually exist, and that I am worthy of such love. (Let this right here be a lesson to all the ladies out there who are still hoping and praying – He is listening to you, girlfriend!)

By 2015, David and I were married in wedded bliss. I was finally happy in love, and I had stopped caring so much about being “small”. Unfortunately though, I married a man who can eat ANYTHING he darn well pleases, and still maintain 6-pack abs. The nerve! So y’all can only imagine what happened, right? He’s cooking up all this Texan goodness, and I’m eating it up like I haven’t eaten in two years… because I hadn’t. For two years I survived on chicken/blueberry/spinach salads, protein shakes, and eggs. So when boo-boo took over the kitchen and started cooking like Bobby Flay, every other day was taco night, and before long I had packed on more than a few “love pounds”.

Fast forward to 2016 – a year of lemons. I miscarried our first child, injured my back and had to have surgery, fought a couple of brutal infections which totally wrecked my gut-health, and just landed flat on my A-double-S. Some days I could barely move, let alone focus on being healthier. But one good thing did come out of that year – one beautiful, perfect, and timely blessing. I became pregnant with our second baby, a little girl whose name had already been spoken to me, even before she existed in my womb. Our daughter Grace.

Suddenly, every struggle of that awful year was washed away. I had a reason for getting up every day and smiling all day long. I absolutely loved the feeling that I was carrying the whole world in my belly… until of course about the 8th month. By that time, I felt like a beached whale and couldn’t sleep worth a dern. It was in the middle of the blazing HOT Carolina summer, and I got winded just getting up to get a glass of water. Sigh.

By the time I was full-term in July, my feet were so swollen that it hurt to stand, let alone walk. (Which doesn’t bode too well for a full-time working mama.) But, somehow I survived. And then, one sweltering July day in 2017, after a LOT of prayers, sweat, moments of doubt, and many tears, I became a mother to the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. She was perfect and amazing; I could NOT believe how incredibly blessed I was to be her mama.

After the “glow” had worn off, I realized that getting back to a healthy version of myself was going to be an extremely long road. With everything I had been through over the last two years, my body didn’t even remotely resemble the person I was a few years ago. And as the days and nights flew by, maternity leave ended, and before I knew it I was back at work wondering where the heck I was, who I was, and what was this nightmare I seemed to be stuck in. All I wanted to do was to be at home taking care of my baby, and instead I was in an office trying to act like I knew how to do things I hadn’t done in 3 months.

I blinked, and now 18 months have passed since my Grace was born. EIGHTEEN MONTHS. And guess what? I’m still here, stuck in this post-trauma-plus-baby body that I still don’t recognize. I drag myself through every day with the same routine, eating whatever is quick and easy, because my days are full of work, stress, and a baby who is quickly becoming a full-fledged toddler.

Well, I’ve decided that it’s time for a change. I have more than enough reasons in my life to want to be healthy; most of all, I want to be here for my little girl. Not just to “watch” her grow up, but to be a part of it. I want to be able to run around and chase her, and not get tired after just a few minutes of playtime. I want to not be embarrassed when picturing myself in a bathing suit; I live in a coastal town, for goodness’ sake! I need to be able to go to the beach and enjoy my time with loved ones without feeling so self-conscious and ridiculous. Do I need to be perfect? No! But I DO need to be able to enjoy this life I have been blessed with, and not cut it short by making poor choices.

So here I am, baring my soul to the interwebs. I’m making my public declaration right here and now to start down a healthier path, and to document as I go. I need the accountability of others who are (hopefully) reading along and taking this journey with me. I’ll be sharing my victories, my struggles, healthy recipes and good tidbits, and anything else I can find to help me do this.

I want to be a healthy mama for Grace.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope you’ll stick around for more.
Blessings,
Emily