Week 2

Week 1 is over.  I did a pretty good job eating three meals a day.  I haven't noticed any change in my appetite or energy levels as a result of not skipping meals, but maybe that will come with time.  I still have to eat snacks...something that is a no-no if I go forward with surgery.  It is funny.  My whole life I was told that a good diet involved eating 5-6 small meals a day.  Now I am being told to confine my eating to 3 regular meals and no snacks each day.  I'm not sure how I feel about that.  I guess I can talk to the nutritionist about it at my appointment in a couple of weeks.

In regards to my second Week 1 goal...I did not manage to keep myself off the scale.  I weighed myself almost every day, but I never got on the scale more than once a day and I didn't let myself get emotionally attached to the number on the scale.  Even though I need to continue to keep working on weaning myself off the scale, I'm happy with the progress I've made in just one week.

Speaking of "progress," you might be wondering how much weight I lost this week.  NONE.  I had lost three pounds and it came back when we traveled out of state over the weekend.  I'm a little disappointed, but I'm not at all surprised.  The changes I am making at the beginning of this journey are small changes that don't result in drastic weight loss.  Later on down the road I'll start working towards the big weight loss lifestyle goals...like not giving into my carbohydrate cravings and increasing my protein intake.  Baby steps.

So now I am on to Week 2 and it is time to set some new goals to add to my Week 1 lifestyle changes.  I have been having some dehydration issues lately (headaches, fatigue, etc.) and I realized that I am not drinking nearly enough water.  Thus, my first goal for this week is to drink no less than 64 ounces of water a day.  I already track the amount of milk my newborn eats each day.  I'm just going to start tracking my own fluid intake the same way.  I like water, so making myself drink isn't the problem.  Realizing that I've forgotten to drink is my issue.  Hopefully I can become more mindful this week and, if nothing else, reduce the dehydration-related problems.

As for my second Week 2 goal... it is time to add some exercise.  I will exercise every single day this week, 15 minutes a day.  Before you laugh at that goal, understand that I have been sooooooo sedentary for almost a year that any exercise is a workout for me.  Walking down a long hallway makes me winded at this point.  When I met with the physician's assistant at the bariatric program, she recommended 15 minutes of exercise a day, every day, at first.  In fact, she said it is fine if I break that down into 3 separate 5 minute walks each day.  She says that most people jump into 30 or 60 minutes of exercise a day and they've skipped a day by the end of week one, a few days by the end of week two, and they've quit before you know it.  But committing to a much smaller amount of time makes it is easier to stick to the exercise routine every single day.  Then, each week, I will just add five minutes of exercise a day.  In no time, I'll be at a "normal" activity level.  At least...that's the theory.  I did a Mommy and Me yoga class today, and while there wasn't any intense yoga going on in class...I definitely exercised for more than 15 minutes.  So, one day down...six to go.

Support...or lack thereof

I received a lot of materials from the bariatric program I am enrolled in (hereinafter "the program").  One of the worksheets dealt with determining who will and won't support me on my weight loss journey, how I will deal with those who might sabotage my weight loss efforts, and what I can do proactively to keep a sabotage from occurring.  I breezed right through a lot of the worksheets I had been given...but this one gave me pause.

My support system is a little thin.  When I told my mother about my plan to pursue WLS, she flipped out and said she didn't know how someone so smart could be so stupid.  When I told a couple of my friends at a dinner, one of them told me that, while she would support whatever I decided, I should think long and hard about it because her uncle who is a doctor told her that WLS takes 10 years off your life.  She was clearly concerned and clearly not in favor of WLS.  Another friend responded to my announcement by saying that she knew lots of people who had WLS and they all gained their weight right back.  Even the friends who were "fully supportive" gave equivocal responses and kept saying "maybe you won't even need the surgery."  I feel blessed that I have such good friends that they would worry about my well-being...and I know that is where their responses are coming from...care and concern.  But, I don't know if I can put those friends down in the "Supportive of Your WLS Decision" column.  Supportive of me...yes.  Supportive of my decision to have WLS...not so much.

And then there's my husband.  He refuses to give an opinion about WLS.  Something so important...so serious...with serious repercussions on our future...and he says he has no opinion.  I shouldn't be surprised...he won't even give an opinion about where we should go out to eat, what we should have for dinner, or what we should watch on TV.  His whole family does the whole "no opinion" thing.  I think they have an overactive fear that if they give an opinion and something goes wrong or is bad, they will get blamed because it was their idea.  If I'm right about that, it makes sense that my husband wouldn't want to take a position on something as big as a major surgery.  But let's be honest...he MUST have an opinion...he just doesn't want to share it.  I've tried to decode what he has said.  Mainly, he said "I don't want to give you an opinion because I don't want to push you into anything."  In my mind, that means he wants me to have the surgery, but doesn't want me to feel like he's pushing me to do it.  I've tried to explain to him that I need him to at least talk with me about the surgery option.  I need him to help me sort out how I am feeling about everything.  I've explained that, by not even discussing the pros and cons of the surgery options with me, he is being unsupportive.  He doesn't seem to care.  He wants to stay out of this, leaving me feeling very, very alone with this decision.

Worse...he's not able to be supportive of the small lifestyle changes I've already made.  He comes home late and wants me to eat with him at 9:30 p.m....which I will no longer agree to do because I shouldn't be eating dinner so late.  He wants me to eat the crappy food he likes...the food that gets me into trouble.  For example, tonight I made chili turkey burgers.  Not a diet recipe, but a high protein low-carb recipe that is a step in the right direction for me.  My husband whined and complained and kept trying to get me to order delivery instead.  "You must be tired...you don't have to cook tonight."  "We can have turkey burgers tomorrow night...or the night after...or when I'm not home...hahaha."  "You know you don't have to just jump into this diet thing...you can ease into it."  I tried to explain...this is "easing into it," and I need him to be supportive.  His response..."I will be supportive if you just cook things I like.  Why can't we just order pizza and you eat one piece instead of four?"  I've tried to explain...I can't control my portion sizes right now so I have to change what I'm eating and later work on how much I'm eating.  He just doesn't get it.  He has to eat/drink between 4,000 and 5,000 calories a day to put on weight.  He can eat an entire pizza in one sitting and not put on a pound.  How do you get someone who has no idea what it is to struggle with weight loss to stop saying "You just need to control yourself when it comes to food...now lets order pizza."  Really?!?

I don't believe that (with the possible exception of my mother, who luckily lives far away) anyone will try to actively sabotage my lifestyle changes.  But I think it might happen unintentionally.  I think it is already happening unintentionally.  On another night, I might have broken down and agreed to the pizza.  And I wouldn't have had one slice because I never can.  I'm being told by the doctors who do WLS day in and day out that I will not be able to succeed in this journey without support...and I'm not sure where to find it.  On this blog?  In support group?  What about in my own home?  Will my husband come around when he sees I'm committed to this change, or will this become a constant struggle...leaving me having to battle my cravings and bad habits in addition to my husband?  

One Foot In...One Foot Out

I just had groceries delivered and I am feeling like a schizophrenic "dieter."  On one hand, I bought low calorie bread, lots of fresh vegetables, sugar free desserts, and lean protein sources (lots of them).  On the other hand, I bought a dozen doughnuts, potatoes and rice, and lots of full fat cheese.  I'm trying to tell myself that it is okay to make baby steps in the right direction rather than throwing myself all in.  But there's a little voice in the back of my mind telling me that I am not fully committed to a lifestyle change and that the "small" concessions I am making are for show.  I'm not sure which part of me to listen to.  Which one represents honesty and which one represents self-sabotage?  It's not so easy to tell.

As for my weekly goals of not weighing myself and eating three meals every day...I'm doing just okay.  I weighed myself...the very first day.  I didn't attach much emotion to the number on the scale (improvement), but I was a little disappointed that I couldn't even make it one day without weighing myself.  I think I will do better today.  I'm not feeling the same urge to weigh myself.  It is true what they say...old habits die hard.  I have been doing well with eating three times a day.  As expected, my (almost) five month old son is not a fan of this.  Even if he is napping when I start a meal, he wakes right up, gives me a dirty look and starts fussing.  My husband and I joke that my son has a rule that I am not allowed to eat and has some supernatural radar that alerts him when I'm trying to.  I think he will adjust...but I was serenaded through yesterday's breakfast and lunch by the sound of baby crying.  Fun times.

Overall, I'm feeling calm...but almost too calm about this attempt at losing weight.  There is no sense of urgency and there should be...I am morbidly obese.  Hopefully I can just keep improving little by little, one day at a time. 

Week 1 Goals- Stop Being A Slave To The Scale and Eat Three Meals A Day

First, I just want to thank everyone who sent me words of encouragement about this blog during this last week.  It isn't easy for me to open up about my weight.  It isn't easy for me to publicly commit to change my lifestyle when I am so afraid of failing.  It's so comforting to know there are people who are hoping I make succeed this time.  So, thanks again.

Week 1 - I have to start my lifestyle change somewhere.  In the past, when I've attempted a diet, I go full throttle right from the beginning.  I cut carbs, count calories, guzzle water and exercise for an hour a day...and then I quit.  Sometimes I quit in a month, but usually I quit after the first week.  Knowing that implementing a bunch of drastic changes and restrictions will just lead me to failure, I have decided this time to take things slow.  I am not planning on having surgery for at least another eight months, so I have lots of time to figure this out.  That doesn't mean I'm going to adopt the "I'll start next Monday" mindset.  Rather, I have made a list of all of the goals I can think of (and that have been provided to me by the bariatric support team) and I have tried to get an idea of how to space the lifestyle changes out.  Looking over the list, I noticed that many changes involved limiting or taking things out of my diet, but many changes involved adding things in.  For example, I am supposed to eat more protein and I am supposed to eat less carbs.  Rather than trying to do both at the same time, I am going to try eating more protein for awhile and then, when I start realizing that I am more full for longer with the increased protein intake, I will finally work on cutting my carb intake.  In theory, this will keep me from feeling deprived.  We'll see how it goes.

This week though, I have decided not to focus on what I am eating at all.  I am tackling two "easier" lifestyle/habit problem areas.  First...I am not going to weigh myself at all this week.  In fact, my goal is to not step on the scale until my appointment with the nutritionist in mid-May.  I am one of those people who is a slave to the scale.  I hop on multiple times per day, hoping that the number is going down and beating myself up (and usually seeking comfort in a nice sugary snack) when the scale shows a .1 lb increase.  I've even weighed myself, been unhappy with the number, peed and then weighed myself again...trying to get my number down.  It is truly ridiculous behavior and I know that.  But...it's a perfect example of what happens when a habit gets out of control.  I don't want to give up if I am making positive changes but the scale doesn't reflect it.  So...my very first goal is to go at least one week without weighing myself.  I'm removing the scale from the bathroom so I don't see it multiple times per day.  Hopefully I have the willpower to stick to this one.

The second habit I am tackling is the horrible way I space out my meals.  I was always bad about not eating all day and then pigging out at night.  Now that I am breastfeeding and staying home with my son, I am too hungry to go all day without eating but too busy to eat a meal (cue run to the cookies for a quick fix a couple of times per day).  Even though I might end up eating more initially by eating three meals a day (remember...no restrictions yet), this is something I will have to stick with if I get WLS.  Because you can't eat very much at each meal after WLS, you HAVE to eat each meal...relatively evenly spaced.  And besides that...it's just better for your blood sugar to eat that way.  So, this week I am committed to eating three meals a day.  Even if they are grab-and-go meals (such as deli turkey and a banana for breakfast), I'm just going to find a way to shove something in my mouth (other than cookies).  My son might not like this change, as he isn't a huge fan of me taking time for myself, but it is important that I make these changes for his future, too.  I will be around longer if I can improve my lifestyle and he will learn healthy habits if I'm modeling them for him.  15 minutes of him fussing now will probably not seem too bad when he is reaping the benefits in the future.

So that's it.  Those are my two goals and while they seem simple enough, I know from experience bad habits are always tough to break.  If I can stick with these to changes for just one week...I'll at least know that I have SOME willpower still.  And that's a good place to start.

You've Got To Start Somewhere

My official bariatric center weigh-in was held two days ago…on April 18, 2012.  I was told that I weigh 257 pounds, am 5 foot 5 inches tall, and have a BMI of 42.  I am morbidly obese and, thus, will likely qualify for bariatric surgery under my insurance company’s guidelines…regardless of any other co-morbidities.  I have a diet plan (I’ll write more another time about that) and exercise goals.  There are a million clearances to obtain, tests to take and appointments to attend before I can actually meet with the surgeon.  However, unlike many people who pursue bariatric surgery, I am not trying to get everything done as fast as possible.  I plan to have surgery right after Christmas of this year.  Thus, I have extra time to get through everything.  My weight loss goal (which I need to meet and maintain prior to surgery) is 5% of my body weight…or 13 pounds.  That would put me at 244 pre-op.  244 is certainly not an ideal goal for me…in fact…it is humiliating that 244 is so far below my weight that it counts as a goal.  When did this happen to me?  <Sigh>  Oh well.  I’m just going to have to suck it up, realize that the situation is what it is, and focus on the fact that at least I am doing something to remedy this situation.

I’m not sure why I am writing this blog.  I understand my need to think things through and get them out of me so I can read them over to better analyze my thoughts and feelings.  But why so public?  Why not journal privately?  If I’m so humiliated by who/what I have become…why am I putting all of this out there for the world to see (if they were looking)?  I think it is because I am really trying to do everything differently this time.  No more hiding my “diet” because I don’t want people to judge me if I fail.  That’s like setting myself up for failure.  No more denying to myself the seriousness of my weight problem.  If I’m admitting to the world that I have this problem…I can’t very well deny it to myself.  And…I think also am writing because of part of me feels like I need support.  I don’t know that anyone will read this blog.  I have no intention of advertising it and trying to draw attention to it.  But I believe from past blog experiences that those who care enough to read about my journey will also care enough to support and encourage me…not to kick me while I’m down.  I guess that’s why I’m putting this out there.  That’s why I’m blogging.

I can’t believe I am posting these pictures on the internet, but here they are…my “Before” photos.  I will not look this way ever again. 

On Your Mark...Get Set...Go!

In fairness, this blog is not really the full story of my weight loss journey.  That story began a long, long time ago.  I’m starting this blog at the point in my journey where I’ve decided that more drastic weight loss measures may be needed.  Specifically, I have begun my journey towards weight loss surgery (hereinafter “WLS”).  You see, I have struggled with my weight since college.  Prior to that, in high school, I was a beauty pageant winner and did some modeling.  I was captain of the cheerleading squad and one of the captains of the track team.  I would see fat women and think to myself “How could they let themselves get that way?”  My junior year of high school, I found myself in a very destructive “romantic” relationship.  The relationship was brief, but the scars it left behind stuck around long after the relationship was over.  I started self-medicating my emotional pain and confusion with food.  In two years my 5 foot 7 inch frame went from 130 pounds (a size 3 for me) to 180 pounds (a size 12).  As the years wore on the numbers on the scale kept moving upward.  By the end of college, I was at 195 pounds.  By the end of law school, I weighed 230 pounds.

My last year of law school, in 2003, is when I started really dieting.  I tried everything.  I would lose anywhere from 5 to 25 pounds and then would quit when the numbers on the scale stopped moving as quickly as I wanted them to.  I tried personal training, gym memberships, training for a 5k, taking “power yoga” classes.  Nothing stuck…except for the fat on my hips. 

In 2005, I met my husband.  He could care less how I looked, as he is one of those rare men that truly care about brains more than beauty.  In 2008, we married and started trying to have a family.  I had whittled my weight down to 185 pounds for the wedding.  When I came back from our 9 day honeymoon, I was back up to 196…11 pounds in 9 days…impressive, right?!?  We quickly discovered that I was suffering from infertility.  My first infertility doctor told me that I would never get pregnant if I didn’t lose weight.  Instead of losing the weight, I lost the doctor and found a new doctor who would focus on helping me get pregnant at the weight I was at.  Three long years and a lot of surgeries and ART procedures later, I got pregnant with my son.

I started out the pregnancy at 255 pounds.  I had terrible hyperemesis, gestational diabetes and other complications during the pregnancy and ended up losing 30 pounds in my first trimester.  On the day I had my son (7 weeks premature), I weighed 252 pounds.  Two weeks later, I was down to 233 and was so thrilled that I had finally “conquered” my inability to lose weight.  I decided that the combination of breastfeeding, stopping infertility medications (which pack on the pounds), and having the emotional void I had been feeling during the years of infertility finally filled by my son must have been the magic ticket to Skinnyville.  My son is four months old now…and I weigh 257.5 pounds.  Apparently, my magic ticket was a fake. 

It hurts me to walk.  In fact, sometimes my feet and knees hurt as soon as I get out of bed in the morning.  I get winded going up one flight of stairs.  I am wearing size 24/26 clothing…and not well I might add.  My cholesterol is at 236, with my bad cholesterol numbers coming in way too high, and my good cholesterol numbers showing up as way too low.  I likely have sleep apnea, though I will have to have a sleep study to confirm that.  I’ve stayed home with my son for the last four months, and will be home for another three months before I return to work.  I thought staying home with my son would mean I would have plenty of time to exercise and focus on me.  Not so much.  I seriously underestimated how much time a baby chew up each day.  Being home has also given me an opportunity to mindlessly raid the cupboards, eat in front of the television, and do all of the other habits that I know full well are NOT healthy for me.  I’m a carb and cookie addict now…making up for the seven months that I was on insulin during my pregnancy and had to deprive myself of those naughty indulgences.  I am watching myself spiral out of control at an alarming rate…and it is time for a change.

I look into my son’s eyes and I picture who he is going to become over the coming years….even the coming months.  He is going to need me to keep up with him, to protect him from getting himself into trouble, and to guide him in starting healthy habits that he can take with him for the rest of his life.  I can’t be that person for him right now…not in my current state.  That realization is what has finally brought me to a place where I am ready to do something about this…something other than just whine and get depressed about how fat I am.  My son deserves a happy and healthy mommy, my husband deserves a wife who isn’t always desperately seeking affirmations and approval, and I deserve to be the person I know I am…the one trapped inside of this fat suit I’m wearing around.

So…in a sense…this is where my journey “starts.”  No more excuses.  No more procrastination.  I need to get moving on my weight loss right now.  I welcome you to follow my journey.  I can’t promise that it won’t be a bumpy ride but…if nothing else…it might be entertaining.