The beginning of a journey starts with one step or however that saying goes. For me the first step to baby-number-two-weight-loss began with fast food. Just an hour or so after giving birth, my mother and sister in-law asked what they could do to help me. At first I thought of answering with the common lie, "Oh I'm fine." But then I considered my stomach--growling in moster fashion--and the fact that the hospital where I delivered had a strickly vegitarian menu. "Could you go get me some In N' Out?" They chuckled then paused, looked at eachother and realized I was completely serious. An hour later I was inhaling a double-double, french fries, a chocolate shake, and an extra large pink lemonade. Food never tastes as good as right after childbirth--I was in heaven. I have a picture of me looking utterly haggard stuffing a dripping hamburger in my face. Its really disgusting, but considering how I felt in that moment, I will always treasure that snapshot. (But sorry, you cant see it, yet).
I figured this after-birthing feast would be my last hurrah before hopping back on the weight-loss wagon. Then I started breastfeeding. I devoured a dozen plates of food each day during the first two weeks after Ashley was born--no joking. And my hunger was so intense that I felt I might lose my marbels without food. To manage this hunger I tried a few things. The first was to eat a pound of steamed brocoli to at least fill me up on something healthy. But after eating that I would have a crazy craving for something sweet, scarf down a chocolate bar and 4 cookies. I no longer eat twelve meals a day, lukily, but I still struggle with nearly CONSTANT hunger and cravings. I cannot be trusted around anything sweet these days. I feel like the drag-dressed Chris Farley on the classic SNL sketch where he lashes out at his friend questioning the french fries he chose during his lunch break from The GAP, "SHUT UP I'M STARVING!!"