I can't believe it. I don't want to believe it. I gained. A pound and a half. I kept thinking perhaps the slight ups from the previous weeks really were water weight or hormonal weight or some other thing that could be explained away.
Am I falling apart? I hope not; I don't think so. Please indulge me as I share an analogy.
I am in labor. Not having given birth to a child, I thought labor meant the 2 hours of pushing and what-not to get the baby out. I didn't realize the hours it takes for your body to change to accommodate the actual arrival of that bundle of joy. Prior to pushing, there are hours of waiting.
I'm in the hours of waiting part. The tiring, how-much-longer-will-this-take and nothing-is-happening part. What I'm doing right now is as important as the actual delivery. I need to be patient, to give myself permission to trust my body and the weight loss process. Now is not the time to decide to bag it all, bury my head in the sand, say "This is too hard," and go home.
Now is the time to stay the course. I'm in this for the long haul, team.