Coming clean and moving on

I went to see my mom yesterday.  She was doing a lot better than I’d anticipated, so that was a relief.  My sister’s been watching her like a hawk since she got out of surgery, but I really do feel she’ll be fine on her own – my sister leaves Tuesday and my mom lives about an hour away, so quick trips over there aren’t really possible.

Her incisions are so small!  She has four or five little tick marks on her belly.  I told her that her incisions looked even better than Rick’s did after he had the band installed.

After a little chit chat, I said, “Have you walked today?”  And with very little coaxing, she agreed to go for a walk with me.

On that walk, I told her everything I had blogged about in my last entry. We had a good talk about it all.  In that moment, I felt closer to my mom than I have in years. She said she had worried about how I was feeling and she’s proud of me for taking the steps that I’m taking.  I told her I think it’s a shame that people spent the first many years of our lives telling us we were fat when we weren’t…and then telling us as adults that we aren’t fat when we are!  Just…kinda comical.

 

I had a fairly good weekend. We went to a pool party on Saturday, and to prepare myself for the ensuing junk food, I drank a smoothie before we went (1/2 peach, 1c peach yogurt, ice cubes, vanilla protein powder, splash of milk, splash of water). I still had a hot dog and some chips at the party, but I didn’t go crazy.  I tried to stay in the pool most of the time – that helped! 

I’ve been walking at home in addition to walking at work.  Last Wednesday, I popped into the gym to take a Zumba class, but it was full. I thought about staying there to work out, but it seemed so dark and dreary compared the gorgeous day outside, so I went for a 2 mile walk in our neighborhood instead.

I’ve been dancing to the Wii Just Dance about 5 nights/week in addition to walking.  I’m trying to hit my 10k steps/day, but at the very least I want to hit 9k/day.  Yesterday I managed 11.5k!  Best day so far.

I’m soooo close to getting under 240. This morning I weighed in at 240.8lbs.  So a little over 3 lbs in 2 weeks. That’s not too shabby.  I also decided to peek at a couple of measurements now (was going to wait until the month was up) and I’ve lost about 1/2″ in my waist and 3/4″ in my upper thigh so far.  Didn’t check the rest.  Will do that on 6/18.

Kinda sore all over, but I feel great overall.  My shoulder hurts from tossing kids around in the pool on Saturday!  I also joined a little weight loss challenge here in the office that goes from month to month (weigh in the last day of each month).

 

Feeling good!  How about you?

Mom’s Gastric Bypass (and various ramblings)

Today was Mom’s surgery.  I took off from work and headed to the hospital after dropping my youngest off at school (he considers this a big treat, which is pretty cool – usually Rick takes him because of our schedules).  I was joined at the hospital by my stepdad, sister and aunt (Mom’s sister) – all there to support her.  Everything went great – she’s experienced zero complications and even got up for a slow walk before I left around 5pm.

I got disoriented as I left – I just didn’t want to be there any more and couldn’t even explain why. I just wanted to go home.  It hadn’t been an especially taxing day. If anything, it had been really nice to catch up with my aunt as I hadn’t seen her in quite a while.  Still, I got off on the wrong floor, went the wrong way, etc, etc.  Finally, I made it out of the building.

As I was leaving the parking lot, I had to pay for parking.  They only accept cash or checks and I had no cash on me (poor planning on my part), so I wrote a check for $4 and handed it to the clerk.  I gave her a second to look it over, then she raised the bar, so I rolled forward.

“Wait! Ma’am! You put the wrong date on the check – this says 6/1, today’s the 31st! You have to fix this.”

I couldn’t back up because of the line behind me that was already rolling forward, so she leaned out the window and handed me the check and pen…so I could just adjust what I’d already written and make it say 5/31.  I was flustered and aggravated.  Couldn’t she have done that herself?? I mean really. And it was after 5pm by then – they weren’t going to deposit today anyhow. Good grief.

As I drove away, I got myself so angry that I started crying.  What the hell is wrong with me? I thought.  Why am I crying over something so stupid??

Yes, I’m PMSing.  I actually take Sarafem (a fancy name for Prozac you take 2 weeks/month) for my PMDD.  But still… there was something else going on.

Then it hit me.  Today had been a lot more emotionally taxing than I’d admitted to myself at that point.  I hate to sound so selfish…but, well… this is MY blog and it should be about ME, right?

I was supposed to be getting weight loss surgery around the same time as Mom – within about a month of her, actually.  I wassupposed to be there not only as support, but to see how this all goes for her, to brace myself for my own surgery.  I’d read up on both – lap band and bypass – to prepare myself for both of our journeys.  Instead, I shared my knowledge with my aunt and stepdad knowing that I won’t be taking this same path.  Granted, I keep telling myself that this surgery for her is more about reversing diabetes than it is weight loss, but I know she will lose the weight, too.

And then something else hit me: Once she loses the weight, I will be the only fat person left in our family.

Here’s the biggest difference between my mom and me when it comes to our food issues – she shovels no matter who’s watching; I usually do it in private. I’ve always felt like my obesity was a bit overshadowed by people watching how she ate.  They have probably been watching me, too, but I’ve tried not to be too “out there” about it all.

There was also something my aunt said today that really hit me hard. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, and I didn’t say a word in response (we had a distraction, thankfully).  She was talking about how my mom and I have always struggled with our weight, all our lives.  Then she said, “I can remember, even at the age of 3, she was fat!”

I kept quiet, because I love her, and – again – I know she didn’t mean anything negative.  But what I wanted to do was scream, “THAT IS EXACTLY THE MENTALITY THAT MADE HER FAT TO BEGIN WITH!!!”

My mom was nota fat kid.  She was a fucking MODEL.  I’m not using that word as a description of how cute/pretty she was – she actually was a model as a child!  When she got into her teens and started to fill out, her parents started dealing with her “weight problem.”  At the age of 14, she was probably a size 12/14 – but she was also 5’9″!  She’s been curvy all her life!  She’s got the pear shape that I did not inherit whatsoever.

When my parents were helping me deal with my perceived weight issues at a young age (my issues were more about high cholesterol than weight, but that’s another matter), she shared some of the pain she went through.  Her hope was to not put me through the same thing her parents put her through.  I will say that my parents always had the focus on health, even if weight was considered part of that package.  She told me a story about how, at one point, she was so stressed out by everyone wanting her to be thin thin thin and watching everything she ate…that she snuck a tuna sandwich into the bathroom to eat it.

Just as a reference point, I wore a size 11 when I was in about 7th grade…and I barely fit into my mom’s wedding dress (she had me try it on as a joke). Part of it was that I was pretty dang barrel chested.  Part of it was that she wasn’t fat back then.  She already saw herself that way, though. (I wish I had pics to show you of her before I was born, but I don’t have any handy.)

This was Mom right after I was born. Even after 9 months of pregnancy, I wouldn’t say she looked “fat” by any stretch.

 

I saw myself as fat by about age 10.  That was roughly the time we found out I had high cholesterol and triglycerides. Both of those words mean “fat,” so if you have high levels of both, that must make you fat, right?

I was 5’6″ with a C cup by 8th grade. I was a size 12/13.  I’ve since seen pictures. I remember how self-conscious I felt, how huge I thought I was.  I wasn’t.  I was tiny.  I was healthy.  I played volleyball and rode my bike all over town.  But I let everyone tell me I was fat until I just agreed with them.

8th grade – see how fat I was??

I’ve rambled. I tried writing this blog in my head on the way home from the hospital. I had an hour-long drive and I spent a good deal of it crying.  And trying to remind myself that I’m on the right track and I don’t need to bury my sorrows in some random fast food along the drive back.  I knew that wouldn’t help for more than 30 seconds…then I would feel worse.

I made it home with just water and some sugar-free gum to take my mind off things.  I dried my eyes and had a healthy dinner with my family.  My husband understands where I am and where I’ve been. He’s a wonderful man and I’m beyond lucky to have him in my life.

I wish I could go back in time to my 13 year old self and tell her to ignore everyone.  I wish I could do that at age 17, even.

Instead…I just have 32 year old me here and now…and she knows there’s no time like the present.

One woman’s quest for ONEderland

A little info about me. As of right now.

Age: 32

Height: 5’7″

Weight: 245 lbs

Yep, there ya go.  Oh, wait, but I’m “big boned”. I swear!

I’ve struggled with my weight all my life. One time I had someone ask me what I “used to weigh”.

I looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…what did you weigh back when you were thinner? What did you used to weigh back then?”

“You mean…like… when I was a freshman in high school??”

If that’s the question, the answer is about 145lbs. So, even then, I was “thick”. I’ve never had the ass/hips/thighs of a big girl, though. I carry all my weight in the middle. As my mom would say, I’m “barrel-chested”.  Built like a brick shit house! 

If we’re being politically correct… I’m “apple-shaped”.

Oh, how I’ve always longed to be pear-shaped.  Or hour-glass shaped!  It’s just not my lot in life.

When I was younger, I develped high cholesterol and triglycerides. I was always tall and heavy for my age. Looking back at pictures from elementary school and junior high, I was not “fat”. My parents sent me to dieticians and cut out most of the fat from my diet. They tried to get me into sports.  My siblings never had these problems. They’ve always been pretty thin.

By the time I graduated high school, my cholesterol was still high, but much better than it had been. My triglycerides were still off the charts.  My weight was about 175.  Looking back, that doesn’t sound too shabby.

I went to college my freshman year in south central PA. Can you say “no sun for 4 months”?  Yeah, that’s winter in the valley.  I hid indoors and ate. And ate. And ate.

By the end of my freshman year, I was over 210lbs.  I moved back to FL to be with my family.  I soaked up the sunshine, I swam, I worked. I lost weight.

I got into kickboxing and yoga! I loved it!  I got down to a svelt 190lbs. Yep.  190. I looked, good, though – I have to admit. I was toned and flexible. I felt amazing.

Then work and school and life drowned out the exercise routine. I was young and enjoying the bar scene, smoking weed, eating whatever I felt like at the moment. I dated and had a blast.

I moved to Texas in 2001 to be closer to family.  For a while, I lived the “cheapest shit I can find” diet. I don’t even want to think about the junk I ate during that first year or so.  I was smoking, too. Then I’d quit. Start again. You know the drill.

In 2003, I got engaged.  He was overseas during most of our engagement and I decided I wanted to look awesome for the wedding.  I started the South Beach Diet.  A friend of mine pointed out that it was originally written for people with high triglycerides, among other things.  It was a heart-healthy diet.  I read up on it and it was a sound concept, so I started my first ever real diet.

I got down to 185lbs. I was so excited. I have friends that could never even fathom being “excited” about weighing that much. 

My SBD friends, however, were very happy for me.  We jokingly called any weight under 200lbs “one-derland”.  (Get it? Because your weight starts with a 1.  Yeah…it’s all making sense now, right?)

 

It didn’t last.  Stress of my fiance getting home, wedding planning, working too much, etc… it all caught up to me. When I got married in May 2004, I was back up around 210lbs.

I’ve never weighed less than 200lbs since.  After 8 years of trying (and don’t blame me having a baby – that was almost SIX YEARS AGO), I’ve never gotten there again.  The lightest I’ve been since my kiddo was born is 214lbs.  That was right after I got married to my current husband.  We then went to Jamaica on an all-inclusive honeymoon trip and blew that shit RIGHT out of the water!

A little about my husband.  He’s 41 (just had a birthday!) and about 6’1″.  When we met in June 2010, he weighed about 375lbs. He’s now 250lbs. (Six months before we met, he was 426lbs.)

In July 2010, he had the Lap-Band procedure.

Mind you, I’ve dated guys before that had gone through that procedure…and expected it to just work magic. They still ate shit 24/7 and forced things down (usually only to throw them back up again).  When my husband told me he had been working towards this surgery, I told him I was behind him 100%..as long as he used it as a tool and made other changes in his lifestyle as well.  He did.

We have a gym membership and – while we take some breaks here and there – we both use it fairly regularly. I cook healthy meals for us (most days!) and we have stopped eating out as much. A little over a year ago, I thought about getting Lap-Band, too. But…I chickened out.  I tried phentermine instead. (That’s how I got down to 214!) As soon as I went off it, I gained the weight back.

About 3 months ago, I decided it was time to do something else.  Type 2 diabetes runs in my family. I’m built in a way that I carry my fat in the most unhealthy parts of my body – putting me at risk for stroke, heart disease, etc.  I’ve tried my entire adult life to get things under control and it just hasn’t worked. You can say I’m weak, you can say I should try harder… say whatever you want. I’ve decided to get the Lap-Band procedure. My first appointment was a month ago.  I’m going to the same doc my husband goes to.

Today I made my psychologist and nutritionist appointments (required by insurance).  My 2nd weight loss appointment is tomorrow.  At this pace, I should be ready and approved for surgery by July.

I might make it to One-derland by New Years.