It all started with a mouse. And a Rat.

In September 2017, Brian and I escaped to Disney World for our first kid free vacation ever. Boy was old enough to stay behind and we were old enough to enjoy going to a theme park without him. We spent a long Labor Day weekend eating and drinking around the World, tasting the best that each country had to offer and thoroughly enjoying ourselves. On that Tuesday, on the flight home, Brian started to feel unwell and it turned out he was bringing home a sinus infection.

As he spent the next few days in bed I unpacked, bought groceries, cleaned, did laundry and then finally got around to opening up the PhotoPass file from our trip. Prepared to sit down and happily flip through our most recent adventure, I ended up with a different kind of surprise.

I had obvious, photographic, undeniable proof. I had gotten fat.

Oh, sure. I'd been overweight for a while. Maybe a long while. I was about 165 graduating high school. 180ish when Brian proposed, 190 on our wedding day. 205 when I got pregnant, but then I stopped keeping track. That over 200 number wasn't something I needed to worry about, I'd lose the baby weight as soon as I had the baby. How hard can it be since I'll be chasing a kid around and working (I still had a full time job when Boy was born)? Well, it turns out it's pretty freaking hard. How is it so very easy to put it on and like pulling teeth on Captain Hook's crocodile to take it off?

After I had looked through each and every photo I just sat there on the couch, stunned, and started to cry. Brian was sleeping off the illness and I was desperately hoping he wouldn't need me for anything because I didn't want to explain my tear stained cheeks. I had never felt so low in my life. Seeing the two of us side by side, I was amazed that he still was attracted to me, still wanted me, still loved me. My life and my body had gotten completely out of control and I had spent 16 years with my head in the sand desperately hoping that somehow the situation would just fix itself. As the blog goes on I will explain more about my health issues, but do know that I have been on disability for almost 20 years now. I'm sick. I seem to get sicker all the time, new diagnoses come out of the woodwork at an astounding rate. But. I couldn't live with being sick AND fat.

I eventually got my tears under control and rummaged around in a closet to dig out a scale that I knew we owned. I remembered storing it somewhere when we moved in, something like 3 years before. Once found I set in on the bathroom floor, stepped on and dreaded looking down. Please, God, don't let me be 250 pounds, I thought.

263.0. That was the damage. That was the starting point. 263.0. Spitting distance to 275. Oh. Hell. NO.

I knew - just knew - in that moment that my life had changed. I couldn't live like this. Not for me, not for Boy and not for Brian. This is not what I had planned for my life and control had to be taken right this second. I went back in the living room, plopped on the couch and started researching diet plans. I needed something that was sustainable with all my health issues. Keto and Atkins - out. Too heavy on the protein and fat, my system won't process that. Jenny Craig - no. I can't live on pre-packaged food, I need to be able to control what and when. Slim4life - no. Extreme calorie restriction and handfuls of supplements are not going to work.

Weight Watchers? Eh. I tried it before. Twice. It never stuck. But, I took a look. Researched, read, calculated and decided to go for it, again. Third time is a charm, right? Apparently so. Over the next 8 or 9 months I managed to lose 70 pounds. I maintained that for a long time, then got lazy and crept back up to 205 by last July. I re-signed up for WW and started counting points again last summer. I have managed to lose 25 pounds since the restart for a total of 83.7 pounds as of today. Was it easy? Nope. Did I ever fluctuate or plateau? Oh yeah. Did I ever consider stopping and giving up? Not once.

I am blessed and lucky that I have a husband that has always loved me, no matter my size. He never chastised me, never made comments, never made me feel less than. But I know he was worried for me, worried about me. Once I joined WW and committed to it completely, he was a rock. He put up with the tears when the scale would not budge even though I worked so hard that week. He gave up any foods that were particularly hard for me to go without. He ate what I ate, bought what I needed, helped prepare meals that made me happy and willing to stick to the plan. He is my Prince Charming (with a little Flynn Rider thrown in).

All I need to keep me straight is to go back and look at the starting point photos. I will never be her again. I've gone from a size 22 to a size 12, and from an XXL to a M/L. We are just about one week from being back at Disney and I'm looking forward to taking all new pictures. This time when I look through the Photopass pics I'll be tear free and happy to relive our adventure.

This is me, this is my life, this is my journey. Hello, everyone... I'm Jo. Welcome aboard.