All good things must come to an end ...

or so someone has said.

We all come to a realization at some point that the pounds are just not going to fall off forever. I know I've been the same weight, give or take four pounds, for three months now. I have not given up. I feel fantastic. I look pretty good, compared to where I have come from. If I remain this weight I will be okay. My health and quality of life has drastically improved and that's what this whole process has been about for me.

My surgeon says I should be able to lose another 40 lbs before I must learn to maintain. I figure I'm getting good practice now and I know I will keep the weight off this time. It is hard not to become disheartened or discouraged but I have found that I seem to no longer have this issue. I no longer obsess about the scale and feel the need to get on it every single day. I would love to say I only weigh once a week, but that just isn't the case. I am going to get there though.

Today the scale read 266.0 and I gasped. That is my lowest weight in over 20 years. Only 34 more pounds to get rid of and I will be the weight I was when I met my husband 26 years ago. That is a sobering thought. I thought I was so fat then and look at where I ended up. It makes me sad to look at the pictures of me when I weighed 530 lbs. I look at that woman and wonder what was going on in her life that she let things get so out of control. Then I realize that woman is ME! I can see beyond the fat and feel the pain now. I have been so blessed and know that no matter what, I am strong. I have survived so much and I will continue to survive. After all, I didn't go through all of this for no reason. The Lord has a plan, even for this, and all is well.