Ten Pounds

When I married I weighed 148lbs. My 15 year wedding anniversary was 11 days ago. So basically 10 pounds a year. Although that is not necessarily how it came about.

10 pounds a year, and I am now obese. 10 pounds a year, and unloading the dishwasher hurts. 10 pounds a year and I huff and puff. 10 pounds a year, and trampolines and bicycles and go-karts and horseback riding and all the other cool five year old things are off limits to me. 10 pounds a year to high blood pressure and diabetes. 10 pounds a year and I no longer recognize myself.

I did this to myself. 10 pounds at a time. Year after year.

I vow, weight loss surgery or not, there will not be another 10 pounds. The self abuse must stop.

So anyway. No weight loss resolutions. No diet. No crazy plans this 2014 to get it right. I see that hasn't worked any other year. In fact, it has done the opposite. This year, I just want to work on being happy. I want to work on forgiving myself for past mistakes, screw-ups, whatever you want to call those 10 pounds increments. I want to continue to heal and learn to make my way in the world motherless. I want to continue reaching out to others with kindness and an open heart, as so many have done to me this past year. I want to continue to strengthen my relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ.

And good golly, I want to get approved for my WLS! :taps foot:

Goodnight 2013. You really weren't so great, so I am going to skip midnight and call it a year now.


I realize this blog is all over the place. One post about WLS one about my mom, one about service work. Back and forth. I am going to try and start focusing more on WLS and obesity angle, but must admit, that my depression and grief and changing mindset are such a huge part of my life right now, I cannot separate them. But I also realize reading my constant sobs is probably not entertaining or motivating for anyone. Eh, tough.

Ooooh Baby, It's making me crazy

The insurance run around, that is. Am I approved or not??? They are missing this piece of paper, that piece of paper, yada, yada, yada. One representative tells me she can't see what is needed, the next can, but not if it has been submitted. It is like throwing the dice each time I call. I just want to know! I know Dr. Lord will not preform surgery on me for quite some time as he is backed up, I just want to know if it is covered. This ain't cheap. Average cost is $34,000. Not pocket change.

I am having this surgery. I am having this surgery. I am having this surgery.

I need to give this worry up to God.

God, you know what is best for me, my health and my family. If it is your will that I have this surgery, please oh please let insurance come through for me. Help me find peace in knowing that it is in YOUR hands now, and completely out of my control. Help me let this nagging worry GO! Give me peace and calm so I can enjoy my family and stop fixating on this. If it is not approved, and it is your will for me to have this surgery, I know we will find a way for it to be covered. I give it up to you, KNOW. Amen.

Okay, so that's done. No more worrying for me. I give it UP to our God who is strong enough to easily bear this burden for me.

This IS IT

This is it. This is it.
This is life the one you get.
So go on and have a ball.

Some old 80's show theme song. We watched it. WE loved it. It rang true. You only get one life. It's happening right now. While I am trying to figure out what to do with my life, my life is happening. This is, in fact, IT.


My daughter gets one Christmas as a 5 year old, and THIS IS IT.
And I get one first Christmas without my mom. THIS IS IT.

I will turn 39 this month. My mom will not sing happy birthday to me over the phone or in person. This is it.
But my daughter will make me a card, and wants to make me a strawberry tart, and will sing to me, and love me something fierce. My husband will hold me as I cry from my grief broken heart.

It is hard to reconcile that This is IT, when it is so much pain, so much sadness, so many tears and screams and madwoman cursings. BUT it is also love and cuddles, smiles and presents, the gift of motherhood, a husband who is strong and steady by my side. Friends who give me grace during this hard time in my life. This is it. Helping and serving others, making a difference, learning to pray all over again.

All of it, is it. And so half the time I don't know if I am feeling happy, sad or a whole other range of emotions between the two. This is my life now. I don't get another one and I can't get the old one back. I don't like this one as much as I liked the old one, but I love too much of this one to just chuck it.

So that means, time to accept it. This is it. this is the life I get. And I need to go on and have a ball.

Okay, so now how to do that. That will be a whole new post. But it must start by service. If my life has fallen apart, and I can't get it back, then I get to put it back together the way I want to. Service will be the glue of piecing my life back together.


I will be living it up at Waterfront Rescue Mission Christmas morning so we can deliver meals to homebound folks and then join in on the meal at the center so we can fellowship and encourage others in need. So This Christmas looks nothing like Christmas of my past, but it certainly looks like a worthy Christmas for the future. So maybe, This is it. This call for service into the future. My life.

So is Tara Really Having Surgery?

because she ain't said nothing about it in a long time.

Yes, I am still planning on having weight loss surgery. I have a follow up appointment from my endoscopy on the 17th. My paperwork has been submitted to insurance for approval. That could take anywhere from 2-6 weeks. I am guessing I will be approved from the start as I have all my paperwork done correctly and meet all the criteria. If I don't get approval, I will appeal, and then most likely get it.

Gooooood grief, this has taken over a year. The longest year of my life. Not just waiting on surgery. I lost my mom, I finally gave up on trying to conceive another child, my daughter started school, I constantly fight with depression. 38 has not been kind to me. But I have learned that I am strong, that I am loved, that I can do more good than I ever thought possible, and that I am a fighter. Painful lessons to learn, yet learned all the same.

Anyway, looking at probably March.

But what will I do if I'm denied? Probably stay fat forever, or maybe go on a diet. Which essentially means, staying fat forever, because I've been on a diet for 12 years now, and it hasn't done a whole lotta good.

Some people say weight loss surgery is the easy way out. That it's a free ride, and we (fat people) should do the work to lose the weight. I'd like to agree. I wish it were so simple. I wish that morbidly obese people had a better success rate than 2% of losing and maintaining significant weight loss without surgery. I wish that I had the will power to feel hungry all the time and not go nuts. Because you do know, that to lose 140lbs, I would have to be really hungry for a really long time. I'm no mathematician, but I am guessing that I'd have to maintain a diet of like five hundred calories per day for like a year. I wish that exercise actually yielded the results so many claim it does, but the truth is exercise is more about weight maintenance than it is about weight loss. I wish, I wish, I wish.

But I'm down for taking the easy way out right now. The other stuff hasn't worked, and yes I've tried. Maybe I haven't tried hard enough? Maybe, but I've tried as hard as I can.

I used to get so mad at my mom. She was a very brittle diabetic. For years she would have super high and super low blood sugar levels. I constantly berated her for not managing her blood sugar. So many times, I found her just in time. Just in time to force juice down her throat, just in time to catch her before she fell out of her wheelchair and broke a hip, just in time to call the ambulance to administer a glucose shot. This happened all the time. Not once, not twice, but hundreds of times. HUNDREDS. And each time I would tell her she HAD TO DO BETTER. She had to TRY HARDER. And she swore she would. And the next day, same thing. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. OH, and I was so ANGRY. I'd yell, "What are we going to do if you kill yourself??????" "What do I tell Mia?" "Don't you love us????" TRY HARDER DAMNITTTTTTTT!

And then I didn't get there in time.

I found her dead in her wheelchair, from what I am guessing and believe with all my heart, was low blood sugar.

And I want to tell her now, Mom, I'm sorry, I KNOW YOU DID THE BEST YOU COULD. YOU DID TRY HARD ENOUGH. Sometimes no matter how hard you try, you just can't get there. I forgive you. I'm not mad. I know! YOU TRIED.

WE have to realize and accept that someone's best is THEIR best, not our own. No need to judge their best. We need to respect that everyone is doing the best they can. We can offer help and encouragement, but we can't make them be any better, do any better, change.

So remember that for me please. When you see me in all my morbidly obese glory, or later, when I one day get surgery, I really am just doing the best I can. Just like my mom was, and just like you probably are too.

We all are. <3

Holding hands

Years ago, when I was little girl, we held hands. We'd swing them as we walked. Mom would squeeze, and then I'd squeeze back. And on and on. The squeezing never stopped.

You know what sucks about wheelchairs? They stop you from holding hands. Instead, I pushed her chair. I cannot remember the last time I held my mother's hand and just squeezed.

Today, I held my mother's hand for the very last time, through an old bar of soap, and then I let it slip into the trash.

I'm tired of collecting trash

I'm a stuffer. I like stuff, I want stuff, I buy stuff. I spend lots and lots of time moving stuff around because I have so much stuff. And it's all just, well, just stuff. I've always known this about myself. And I've always known this about stuff.

I've always used shopping as a pick me up. I am a firm believer, or rather I WAS a firm believer, in retail therapy. A trip through the aisles of Target can instantly boost my mood. And my buggy always has stuff thrown in. Stuff I didn't know I wanted, needed, or even cared about, until that trip to Target. Do you know that I know at least 7 employees by name and well enough for them to enquire about my life and day to day goings and for me to do the same? When I walk in, there is usually someone who says "hey" to me within 3 minutes.

I get daily emails on my phone from Pottery Barn, Old Navy, Origins, Target, Smocked Auctions and a whole bunch more. I am constantly looking for things to buy to fill some space in me that is obviously lacking. That's going to change. It's become very clear to me, that I don't want this at all anymore.

You see, I inherited a bunch of stuff. Stuff I don't know what to do with. Stuff I don't want. Stuff I don't have the mental space or energy to deal with. And so today, I decided, I no longer like stuff. I no longer want to buy it, or go look at it. I don't want to move it around. And I don't want a bunch of it sitting in my home when I die.

When I am dead, the granite countertops we financed, that have not enhanced my life in ANY way, will mean absolutely nothing to anyone. The 50 shirts I own, will all be pitched or packed up and given to Goodwill. The gazillion little odds and ends in my home will be tossed, useless, unnecessary, and basically just a burden for someone to get rid of. And here's the catch, they don't mean anything to me either.

It took looking at my mom's house, crammed with stuff (getting sick of that word? Ha! I would never let my students use it, so I'm going all out here!) and me not knowing what to do with it, where to put it, who to give it to or sell it to, for me to realize, some stuff just isn't important.

This quote from Toy Story 3 has always resonated with me. I am going to remember it every time I am tempted to put something in my buggy that I don't need, LOVE, or use every day.


"We're all just trash, waiting to be thrown away!" --Lots-o'-Huggin' Bear

I'm tired of collecting trash.

Grateful

I'm grateful. Tonight was a very humbling experience. A friend of a friend of a friend created an event on FB to give out soup and warm blankets and clothing since tonight will be freezing.

I have known since my mother died that I would give her blankets (she has LOTS!) and jackets to the homeless when winter came. It just snuck up on me. I wasn't ready to go to her house, and take out her things, and those things to be gone from my eyes, my touch, forever.

But, I had to. How can I let old coats and blankets sit unused, when there is a real and desperate need for them? How selfish. To keep a coat just to look at, when it could hold and warm another. I was going to go with just Mimi, but at the last second reached out to a friend, and she joined me.
The hardest part of going to my mother's house, is that I have to enter through the back door. The back door. We have no key for the front. The day that I found her, I banged on the front door, the windows, screaming and yelling. The dog was barking like mad. I ran around to the back, tripped, fell, jumped back up and kept running. The back door was open. I ran through it, to find. . . to find. :( So for me now, I cannot walk around to her back yard. The idea of it terrifies me, makes me sick. I will never walk around the side of that house again. I'm so thankful to my friend, not just for her emotional support, but because she did that walk for me.

I arrived at the event, and was immediately passing out blankets and those hand warmer packs that last for like 18 hours. Even Mimi was passing them out. There was one woman who started taking things from me very quickly and packing them into her van. One of the items I had debated bringing, was my mother's favorite coat. I had it dry cleaned just prior to her death. She never wore it. I knew, this lady, she wanted my mother's coat, but I held tight to it. She left. I later found out that she is homeless, but she has a car, so gets to events like this quickly and grabs as much as she can. She then resells it to the homeless who can't get to these events in time because they don't have a car or bike. She had also gotten 6 of the knit caps someone was giving out. But that's okay, well, it's not. But my job is to give. Her job is to survive. I pick my job over hers.

After I had given all but one blanket out (it was in the front seat, I had forgotten about it) and my mother's coat, I got to chatting with other givers and homeless men. Several of the homeless men work to help all. They try and help keep things "fair" and are leaders and able to help get resources to others. I met one man, Dxxx. He is a big person in the homeless community. I explained to him my past efforts to be involved, the different organizations I've reached out to without success, my inability to find a way to make a REAL difference. He gave me his card, and told me when I was ready to call him. He will help me understand what is already out there, what is lacking, help me determine what my vision is for my role in the homeless community and how to implement that. Truly a gift this man is. I asked him, how he takes care of himself, and he said, he doesn't, God does. He said, why seek worldly treasures and forsake your soul. He was a MODERN DAY Christ, in that he lived to serve others and walked among the poor. So excited about what he can help me accomplish.

I left, glad of this meeting, and that I was able to help, but sad that my mother's coat still sat in the back of my van. On the way home, I saw a woman standing on the side of the road wearing nothing but cutoff jean shorts and a long sleeve tee. I imagine, based on how she was standing and where we were, but of course do not know, she was a prostitute. But she was a cold one. I pulled up and asked her if she would like a coat and a blanket (I had one left). She said she'd take anything. She was tiny, my mother's coat swallowed her. I asked her what else I could do for her, she said nothing, thanked me and walked away. . . I am thankful that my mom's coat was big enough to warm her whole body, and hope that she can feel loved when cloaked in it. I am an emotional mess. I am so sad my mom is gone, but I think through her death, I truly have found my calling and my need to serve. So in her death, I have found a new life for myself.

And yes, my five year old went with me. What point is there in learning this new life, if the lessons are not passed down?

I'm Okay

I'm sorry, my last post worried a few friends. . . I was in a dark place, am still in a dark place, but I know that there is a light at the end. I can't necessarily see the light yet, but I KNOW it is there.

An old friend recently texted me, "You're pretty to me. Jesus has your back and your front, girl."

I know this is true. He is the light that I just need to seek right now. He does have me covered, front and back. I just have to let him hold me up right now, because I can't do it on my own. But could I ever?

So my point is, I'm okay. Rather, I am okay with not being okay right now. Because I know, that one day, I'll be okay again. Okay?

Once again the song that always gives me hope.

Matt Redman

Grief and Aging

In response to a picture I posted, someone mentioned that I look much older now than I did say a year ago. They weren't being mean, we were discussing age and appearance and so she shared this thought with me. She wondered if it was my grief adding lines to my face. I don't know. But it made me think.

I stopped looking in the mirror months ago. My face just stopped mattering. I realized today that I brush my teeth, wash my face, and run a brush through my hair, without ever looking at myself. The mirror above the sink is gone, and has been replaced by nothingness.


I do this with my body too. I get dressed. I get undressed. I shower and rub soap on my self. I do all this, without really seeing myself. Without much thought of what I look like.

But it is more than that. It is more than not looking at myself. It is an almost blatant disregard for myself. I've forgotten I'm here. Or I know I am here, and I just don't care. Or I know I'm here, and I wish I that I wasn't.

I'm ignoring me. And I'm abusing me. And I'm killing me. And I can't think of one good for ME thing I've done in a really long time.

I keep trying. I keep saying I'm getting better. Maybe I am.

But I'm not. I'm just avoiding the problem.

Me.

My grief, my sadness, my depression. My fuckinglifethatisnotwhatiwantittobeanymore.

All the lipstick and haircuts and weight loss in the world aren't going to change a thing.

Waiting But Not

I have done all my preapproval stuff. It's been a year. I'm READY for this surgery and to start my NEW LIFE. My life where I run, and jump on trampolines, where I can walk as fast as my husband and where I fly on airplanes without fear of not fitting. My life where I don't huff and puff just getting out to check the mail and the life where I can go from sitting to standing without HOISTING myself up. The life where I shop at any ole store and kick Lane Bryant to the curb. The life where my blood pressure is normal and my diabetes is 100% in remission (I do manage it well though).

But I'm on hold. Unfortunately, my surgeon's wife is VERY ill. I think she might be terminal. He is on reduced hours and takes times of leave to be with her. I will wait. I cannot rush someone's life or sorrow. I'd do anything for one more day with my mom. I can't be ready for my new life at the expense of her life, of his forever changing. My heart breaks for him, and their grown children. Cancer can just flat out SUCK IT. Death can too.

But while I wait, I decided, grieving as I am, it is time to start being me again. Time to start getting dressed every day, putting on makeup, taking pride in my cute self and acting like a NORMAL person. I was always normal while fat, but this grief thing, well it knocked me down.

So yesterday I got a hair cut, and today I wore lipstick. And I went to lunch with girlfriends. So I did my thing. So instead of WAITING for my NEW life, today I enjoyed this one. The one where I struggle to walk, and get up, and I don't jump on trampolines. But I do have amazing friends, a beautiful daughter, and devoted and loving husband. Where I have faith in God and receive his grace. Where I am alive, and able to do for others and am able to love and give, and just be.

Because that won't always be. That is the part that sucks. But we can't let that part, the sucky death part, take away the beautiful life part.

And so here's me, in all my lipstick glory, with the shortest hair I've ever had. Pretty cute for a chubby girl, yeah?

Done deal

So after debating in my mind nonstop. Between the gastric sleeve and the gastric bypass surgery,  I have finally decided and feel comfortable with this decision. 

I spoke with my surgeon for quite some time today and although I was prepared to argue with him I just could not   His reasons for the bypass in favor of the sleeve were compelling and honest. I 100 hundred percent believe he has my best interests at heart. So I am going to take his advice.

I still have a few hoops to jump through and waiting on insurance approval however it is very likely that I will have surgery sometime in January! A new year with the new me! 

The price you pay for love

is grief.

I read this on some random quote board on Pinterest (because you can find the answer to all of life's problems there). It resonates with me.

If there was no love, there is no grief.

If there was a little love, there is little grief.

If there was some love, there is some grief.

If there was a lot of love, there is a lot of grief.

If there was great love, there is great grief.

And if it was even more than that, well then, there is THIS. This feeling I have right now.

So, I guess it's worth it. It's the price you pay.

I miss you Mom.

She Let Go

I want this. I just want to let go. To be. To release myself from myself. From my grief, my doubt, my fears, my insecurities, my everything. I want to let go.

She Let Go
She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go.
She let go of fear. She let go of the judgments.
She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head.
She let go of the committee of indecision within her.
She let go of all the ‘right’ reasons. Wholly and completely,
without hesitation or worry, she just let go.
She didn’t ask anyone for advice. She didn’t read a
book on how to let go… She didn’t search the scriptures.
She just let go.
She let go of all of the memories that held her back.
She let go of all of the anxiety that kept her from moving forward.
She let go of the planning and all of the calculations about how to do it just right.
She didn’t promise to let go.
She didn’t journal about it.
She didn’t write the projected date in her day-timer.
She made no public announcement and put no ad in the paper.
She didn’t check the weather report or read her daily horoscope.
She just let go.
She didn’t analyse whether she should let go.
She didn’t call her friends to discuss the matter.
She didn’t do a five-step Spiritual Mind Treatment.
She didn’t call the prayer line.
She didn’t utter one word. She just let go.
No one was around when it happened.
There was no applause or congratulations.
No one thanked her or praised her.
No one noticed a thing.
Like a leaf falling from a tree, she just let go.
There was no effort. There was no struggle.
It wasn’t good and it wasn’t bad.
It was what it was, and it is just that.
In the space of letting go, she let it all be.
A small smile came over her face.
A light breeze blew through her.
And the sun and the moon shone forevermore.
Here’s to giving ourselves the gift of letting go…
There’s only one guru ~ you.

The author of this poem is unclear. A few sites list Ernest Holmes as the author, another Jennifer Eckert Bernau and still another Rev. Safire Rose.

Oh the humiliation

of being obese!

I usually am not ashamed of my appearance. I don't worry what others think of my size. I don't like being fat, but I don't worry if others notice. I mean, it is what it is. Every once in a while I get worried about it, if I am seeing someone who hasn't seen me in a long time, but really, overall, I'm fine.

But today. Oh today I had to get a chest x-ray as part of the pre-op procedure. A chest x-ray includes standing up, with NO BRA on. And letting a person take pictures. Now you do have a gown on. But let me tell you, when you wear a 42J a gown ain't hiding much.
In case you aren't sure what a 42J looks like, here ya go!

Now don't worry if you know me in person. That is NOT MY ACTUAL bra. ;)

Anyway, enough about the girls. here's the real kicker. The tech was oh so handsome! Mid to late twenties, tall, curly hair, gorgeous smile, lovely personality. Oh ten years ago. . . wait, I was married ten years ago. Edit that to oh 15 years ago. . . Anyway, I had to let them hang low, while he pushed me up against a board and then, horror of horrors, I had to turn side ways. There was no hiding the damage then. All in all, I was so embarrassed, but this guy was so nice about it. Perfect bedside manner.

He asked me what type of surgery I was having, and I said, "Gastric Bypass, so cute boys like you will look twice at me. But don't, because I'm a married woman." He chuckled. And then let me go put my bra back on.

October

10-18-48
That's the day my mom was born. She died almost six months ago. My grief is, well, it is my grief. I never knew what it was before, but now I do.

So to cope with this month, I have a few things up my sleeve to honor my mom.

My mom loved to shop. She loved to buy presents. She loved to get presents. Every year I would agonize over what to get her, always wanting it to be the perfect gift. This year, I don't get to do that. So instead, I have decided I will buy someone else a gift. There are no rules. I can buy the gift for whomever I want, friend, family member, stranger, anyone. I will give them the gift in honor of my mom's birthday. This will happen every year.

This year's gift will go to an acquaintance. We run in the same circle so to speak, but are not very close. I like her, I think she likes me, but that's about as far as it goes. A few weeks ago, a mutual friend of ours, who is much closer to her than I am, mentioned that this person, let's call her E, wanted an ice cream maker because she wanted to make fresh ice cream with raw milk, something you definitely cannot buy. Now, when I was a child we had 14 goats at one time, five of which were milkers. That's a LOT of milk. So one summer, my mom and I made homemade ice cream almost EVERY single day. We tried so many different flavors. We used the old fashioned hand crank kind and it was FUN. This is a tradition I plan (and have) passed down to my daughter. Every summer we make ice cream the old fashioned way. So E seemed to be the perfect person to gift this year. Also, she is a member of the "dead mom" club. So I feel it was serendipitous that this all came together. So she will be meeting me on October 17th for lunch, where I plan to gift her a new ice cream maker (actually it is an attachment for her Kitchen Aid). I hope she likes it. And since she has lost her mom, I think she will understand my need to do this and not feel uncomfortable.

Now, for the rest of the month. October is my mom's birthday month. I refuse to let her month be all sadness. Yes, there will be sadness because I miss her like freaking crazy and it hurts to breath when I think too much about her, but I want there to be some joy. So for the month of October, I am honoring my mom's birthday month with a daily random act of kindness. My mom taught me a love of reading when I was young, so today's gift was I gifted a book to the first person on FB to respond to my post. The amazing part was this person asked for the book Love You Forever. Which is a children's book that will leave you teary. It leaves me in sobs, as I read it at my mom's funeral. Why? Because love never dies. The love my mama taught me, well, it keeps on going. Forever.
Want to cry along with me?

You can get your very own copy here.
What's one memory you have of your mom? Share. <3

Safe and Fat

So I'm super fat. WE all know it. I should post a pic, just in case you don't. But take my word for it. I am very large. And I don't hate myself for it, and I am actually pretty confident most of the time. I still go out with friends (who all happen to be a healthy weight), I still have a love life with my husband, I am not shy, a wallflower, afraid to meet new people. I haven't holed up in embarrassment or in an attempt to hide myself.

BUT.

Being fat is safe. It makes me safe. I am not a threat to anyone, nor does anyone perceive me as a threat. So I proceed with confidence, because I know no one is really worried about me, because I am a fat non-threat.

Now I didn't get fat for this reason. Being safe is just a byproduct of being fat. But I do wonder how I'll feel after the weight is gone.

Not sure what I am talking about? Let me give some examples.

Gorgeous hunk of hunk of a hunk of a single dad is picking up his child from preschool. I have no qualms making jokes, chit chat, starting up a conversation with him. NONE. Because I know HE MUST KNOW that there is no way this obese person would actually be hitting on him. Therefore, my fat gives me the freedom to be friendly without fear of rejection or of being misunderstood.

Girlfriends. Got lots, and love them. But girls can get catty. I know this. But I feel like NO ONE gets catty with me, because, well, not to be so harsh, I'm just fat ole me. NO one is comparing and measuring themselves to me. They know they've got me beat. This is actually great for me, because I am NOT worried how anyone thinks I look in a bathing suit, dress, shorts, whatever, because I know they already KNOW they look better than me, so there is no reason to check me out and judge.

Make sense?

So I realize now, being fat, I have more confidence than I did when I was 23 and a healthy weight. I compared myself then. I worried then. Now, I know I am at the point where no one is comparing to me. I am the biggest person n the room. I am not a threat. And so I can just be me.

I wonder, will I be less forward when I lose weight? Will I be afraid to talk to men for fear of them thinking I am hitting on them when I am not? Will I be afraid other women are comparing themselves to me and in turn start comparing myself to them? Will I worry others are judging what I wear, how I look, etc?

Being fat is not fun. But I have said for years now that I have more self confidence at 200+ lbs, make that 300+ now, than I ever had at 150. So I wonder, is it this fat that makes me feel so safe? I hope not. I hope I am dead wrong.

It's getting real

I had my first surgical consult. I actually did not meet the surgeon, as he is on bereavement leave. I met with his PA who I really liked, except for one BIG thing he did, which I shall share in a bit.

Good news: they think I am an excellent candidate, all my ducks are 

in a row, and within two weeks I should be able to file for insurance approval. I have three appointments next week and one the following, as well as some lab work and an ekg and I'm done! I had previously decided I wanted the gastric sleeve as opposed to gastric bypass for a variety of reasons. My number ONE reason is less chance of reactive hypoglycemia, which I truly believe is what killed my mother. However, the PA thinks I SHOULD go with the bypass due to diabetes and large amount of weight needed to be lost. However, my diabetes is VERY controlled right now, my numbers are actually in a normal range. :D So I am undecided but still leaning toward the sleeve. I can change my mind up to the day of surgery.

Now, what did this otherwise awesome PA do that absolutely mortified me? He told J THE number. The number no woman likes to discuss. The number many women lie about, the number that I have been so ashamed to tell, the number I never thought I could possibly be up to. THE NUMBER 312. Yep. He told. After I specifically said that my husband does not know the number nor does he need to. It was an "accident" but he was not even slightly apologetic. Now, my hubs doesn't care about the number. He loves me. All 312lbs of me. :D BUT I CARE. It just wasn't cool. I wanted to just vanish I was so humiliated.

But in a way, that humiliation was freeing. Now that Jason, the person I want approval from the most, knows this number and doesn't care, it is like I don't have to hide it anymore. I can tell anyone. Everyone. He doesn't define me by that number, and neither should I, and neither should anyone else. So yeah, I'm obese. And yeah, I weigh over 300lbs, and I'm going to hold my head up anyway. And I will look anyone straight in the eye and say it, without shame or fear of judgment. It is what it is.

Oh, and here's texts between J and I just a couple weeks prior in regards to telling him about my weight. He's really awesome.

And yes, I call my husband J-Dawg.

That Time of Year is Coming

The time of year filled with celebrations for our family. It goes like this:

My mom's bday 10-18

Halloween 10-31

Mimi's bday 11-4

J's bday 11-23

Thanksgiving 11-?

Our anniversary (15 YERARS!) 12-20

Christmas 12-25

My birthday 12-31

And so normally fall/early winter is my MOST FAVORITE time of the year.

I am so not looking forward to it. How can I plan a party for my daughter without my mom? How can I go Christmas shopping without her on my list? How can I wake up on my birthday to her NOT singing to me on the phone? How can we not makes sweet potatoes and turkey together? HOW? It just doesn't seem possible. None of this is ever going to be as good. None of this is ever going to be the same. Ever. I freaking hate forever. :(

Let's just call the whole thing off.

Bouncing Around

I keep losing and gaining the same 10lbs over and over again. Ugh. I am just so not able to commit. What is my problem? I am sick of this.

In other news, therapy is going well, and I am getting a bit better. I might not blog about any of this stuff anymore, just because I realize now I get wayyyyy too wrapped up in online stuff and that this blog could ultimately lead to more of that. I have checked in on FB, but am still overall off. I need to stayyyyy offfffff. But maybe I will. I do like posting and thinking about it all. Pretty sure no one is reading either, so that makes it hard to get to crazy. :D


Took my best girlie and one of the dogs for a walk at the park the other day. Good grief, such a short walk (hilly though) and my lower back was screaming by the end. I need to get this weight off. A walk in the park should be exactly that, a walk in the park. Not the work it was.

Finally meeting surgeon on Tuesday. Hoping that all will go well. Still have several more requirements to meet, but I can't do those until this appointment. I am still hopeful I can have a date by the end of the year, but it isn't looking like that will happen. It makes it hard not knowing. I wanted to sign up for some activities at the girlie's preschool, but I have no idea what will be going on 3 months from now, so I don't want to commit to something and then have to cancel.

Have a great weekend all.

Mixed up Monday

This weekend was okay.

We visited with J's family on Saturday. After losing my mom, I struggle being around his family. Not because they aren't great, they are. But more I just feel lonely without MY FAMILY, which was my mom. Yes, I love my husband, and his family is my family, but it's not the same, and never can be. I am jealous that his mom gets to play with my daughter, and my mom doesn't.

My therapist wants me to write a brief biography of my mom's life, and end with an obituary. I don't want to. I am still at the stage where thinking about her hurts. BAD. I can only think how much I miss her, not actually about her. I can't look at pictures, I can't tell stories. I just can't. But I am going to try. She's a good therapist, and I trust her.

I am going to try and go the gym every evening at 6. I don't have to workout all crazy, but I just want to establish the routine and habit, and also kill some boredom time. J has been working a lot of hours, and usually by the time he gets home I am super depressed just from being alone all day. So the days he can, he'll meet me there, and the days he can't, I'll be on my own. I feel guilty to put my girlie in the gym care center so much, but I really need to do something as just sitting at home and letting her watch t.v. or do whatever aren't so great ether. At least this way I'll be getting out of the house and doing something, and she can hopefully play with other kids and enjoy it.

Whipped myself up a protein shake for breakfast, and am about to start meal planning. I am trying to switch over to eating more lean protein, as that will be necessary after surgery.

Today I scrubbed the tub, and it exhausted me. My back hurt, I was panting and needed to take breaks. You know you're out of shape when simple house hold chores take that much out of you. I was reading somewhere, how for years, we slide, and slide, get heavier and heavier, and not notice the REAL change in our lives. Then BOOM, all of a sudden, our obesity impacts everything we do. It's true. For years and years I got bigger and bigger, but I could still clean the tub. Now it's hard. Obesity has taken over my life. It's time.

So if you read all that, thanks. :D

Rescheduled Appointment

My surgeon had a family emergency so I did not meet with him on the 4th as expected. I was rescheduled for the 17th. UGH. I really just want to meet him so I can get my questions answered.

IN other news, I've decided to give up FB. I am totally addicted and it is consuming my life. I am arguing with people, getting overly emotional and posting ridiculous stuff, chatting while under the influence and just all around behaving like a jackass. I have isolated my self from local friends and begun to rely too heavily on internet friends (whom I love). I'm only two days out, but feel this is a good plan. Maybe I'll go back, but I think with my addictive personality, I need to just let it go. My life will thank me.

Feeling blue, stressed and blah, but knowing I'm going to get better, eventually.

Gettng Help

So I started grief therapy two weeks ago. Not much has changed in the two weeks, but I feel good about the therapy and the therapist. I was afraid to reach out to a total stranger, but she is amazing. She was so warm, caring and kind. I could see the sympathy (not pity) in her every facial expression and she just genuinely seemed to care. She thinks she can help me tackle my grief and then later we will work on my birthday cake eating issues.

One of the most AWESOME parts of having a therapist is I can cry, and snot everywhere, and not worry about making the other person uncomfortable. Normally, I cry a few minutes but try to get it under control. I know I am making someone uncomfortable. But with her, I know she's not, and we talk through it. It feels good to be snotty and gross with someone. I'm not a loner, and don't like grieving alone. It has been hard not having brother or sister, or really anyone to through this with.


IN WLS news, I have finished my insurance required 6 month supervised weight loss trial, and have my first appointment with my surgeon tomorrow! It will still be several months before surgery, as have other requirements, but I am excited to take the next step. I've also started to go, albeit sporadically, to the gym. The hubs has even joined with me. Hoping to be half marathon training again by this time next year! :D Or maybe I'll wait until October, as this humidity is fierce.

Inspiration

Last night I attended a weight loss surgery fashion show at my bariatric surgeon's hospital. It was absolutely AMAZING.

Each participant also got to speak a few minutes or do a Q and A with the surgeon. Every single person was so emotional and so glad they had done the surgery. I heard over and over again, "If you are thinking about it, just do it."

I know whose are the success stories, but to hear about their transformations from sick and immobile, to healthy and active, was awesome.

I want to be that story.


HERE is a the Facebook page if you want to see some of the models.

All Kinds of Confused, or Not

I see my surgeon on the 4th. I know he is a TOP NOTCH surgeon. The best of the best. Except, well, the procedure I want, he does, but has only done a handful of times. . . This makes me nervous. My insurance makes it almost impossible for me to go anywhere else.

But, my friend yesterday repeatedly told me a verse, which I now cannot remember, (how can I forget the verse, she told me several times)! But it was quite simple, and it was basically I will have no fear, and put my faith in God. And I do feel this is the surgery for me, and that I will be safe.

This is my theme song sung by the fabulous and talented Matt Redman.



On another note, I see my grief counselor for the first time today. I am also going to talk to her about the surgery. I figure she can do two jobs at once, help me with grief, and help me with emotional eating.

A friend posted this article yesterday about grief, and I really enjoyed it. As in I got it.

So there. That's all I got.

Second Chances

I want a second chance.

I know I got myself into this mess of obesity, but I need help getting out. I've tried and tried, and failed and failed. I just want a second chance. A chance to do it right. A chance at health, feeling good, mobility, activeness, life.

I wish others could see it as that. I feel so many view WLS with such negativity, such harshness, such judgment. I get it. I DID this to myself. I am human. I messed up. But I don't want to live with the consequences of it forever. I refuse to punish myself, hate myself, or judge myself anymore. I am a child of God, I make mistakes, but God forgives me, and thus, I do too. I am fat, but I am not less than.

I am a daughter, wife, mother and friend. I am funny, kind and strong. I am compassionate and feisty. I am good peeps. Most of the time.

I'm ready for this.

Sept fourth, get here!

Getting Better Makes it Worse - Sometimes

My doctor started me on an antidepressant a couple of weeks ago. And yeah, noticeable change. As my girl's favorite Disney show would say, "I feel better, so much better, thank you Doc for taking all the ouchies away." She watches lots of television lately, and so I have learned all the songs. These are the songs of my grief.

Anyway, I'm able to occupy myself with very important things, like Facebook, My Little Pony décor for my girl's 5th birthday (which is still four months away @@), and Jessica Sorensen novels. I can even grocery shop now, occasionally make dinner, and go around large groups of people without having a panic attack.

But then, then the grief hits. And it sucks. Because it feels brand new again. When I'm sad all the time, it is a constant ache. Constant crying, constant panic attack, constant loss. When I forget to be sad, and then am sad, it is a sharper, deeper pain. Not constant, but still all that much more powerful because it happens all at once, in a single moment. It knocks the shiz right out of me. Then the self loathing comes. Feeling guilty for momentarily feeling okay. Not happy, but okay. Guilt for using drugs (legally prescribed)to smash down the sadness. I feel like I am dishonoring her, by forgetting her with a pill. Not that I forget, just that I don't constantly remember. Yes, I KNOW that I am wrong, that thinking like that is wrong, but it is how I FEEL. Feelings suck. Thus, I take my pill.

I really, really am sad. It just doesn't always show.

Rereading this, I know I sound like a melodramatic fool. But I am who I am, and as my old friend used to say, it is what it is.

When Will It Be

I called and talked to the coordinator at my surgeon's office and the time frame I am looking at is surgery in either December or January, just depending on insurance approval and his schedule. . . So I'll either be ending the year with my fresh start, or starting the new year with a new me. I am hoping it is December, because honestly this Christmas is going to be sooo hard for me, and it would be a good distraction and something to focus on.

I am going to keep my goal small and attainable right now. I have a hard time focusing on much right now due to my grief, so I am going to say I would like to lose 25lbs before my I go on the pre-op diet. I can do that. I CAN do that.

My daughter and I recently started to pass out meals to the homeless once a week. I wonder what these hungry people think seeing my big a** bringing them sandwiches?

Leaning Toward

After reading and reading and reading and reading, and then discussing and discussing and a little more discussion, I do believe I am leaning away from the Lap-Band in favor of the gastric sleeve. Nice run on huh? But that is exactly how my brain has been the last few days mulling this over!

Gastric sleeve, I think is the best choice for what I want to accomplish, what I want my future to look like, and what my relationship with food is. I still have to meet with my surgeon on Sept. 4. I'll listen to what he has to say, but both my hubs and I seem to think this is the best route for me.

I hope you Lap-Band Girls don't give up on me, and don't mind me continuing to stalk your blogs. :D

No Checklists in Life

I just can't figure out what to do. All the WLS options seem to have their pros and cons, and I am truly having a difficult time deciding. My BMI is 47.

I am afraid I'll fail with the Lap-Band. I mean, I've failed at everything so far, so I have ZERO confidence. I'm also not liking the stats of so many people needing it removed later, being sick, all the PB'ing and what not. I've seen so many success stories with it, but I've seen so many failures/struggles with it too. I don't want to have surgery and then, still NOT GET IT. I don't think I could handle that blow to my self esteem.

I'm kind of afraid of gastric bypass, as it is deemed the most risky in terms of mortality. But then, my surgeon is supposedly the shiz and would not dare kill me. He has a reputation of zero fatalities to uphold! But I also don't want nutritional deficiencies on down the line. And, well, everyone messes up sometimes, even top rated surgeons.

The sleeve is a bit new, so I am worried there just isn't enough data about removal of the stomach and future consequence. Mostly I worry that my stomach would no longer produce the hormone that creates hunger, and maybe, just maybe, that hormone is also responsible for something else important that we just don't know yet.

I have a month until I finish my WL trial. And then almost another month until my appointment with the surgeon. I am probably not looking at a surgery date until November at the VERY earliest, and more like January of 2014. So I have time to think. And research. And think some more. But it isn't like I haven't been doing that! I know I want to have WLS, and I was initially planning on Lap-Band, but now I am feeling conflicted.

How do you decide which is best for you? I wish there was a checklist to fill out and then you knew. Maybe some weight loss magazine could come up with the Which WLS Is Right For You ? quiz.

Round and Round We Go

Except well, maybe me and my rocking hubster.

After a good cry, and feeling quite defeated that I would not be covered, my husband just said, "call them, maybe you ARE covered." And I argued with him. I mean, the insurance specialist at the surgeon's office would know for sure, right? I mean, SHE WANTS me to get surgery, it is her job and that is how they make money. I told him over and over and he said I was just being negative. So I called. And I chatted with someone who said she didn't see five years listed anywhere. Then the hubs talked to her, and she said she'd email the policy specifics. Email never came. So hubs called again today for me on his lunch hour (LOVE HIM) and got a new representative, who ALSO said it didn't say that anywhere. This person actually emailed the document. 36 pages of document. Which I read, word for word. NOWHERE does it say anything about 5 years (which is good, because I missed on year by THREE pounds @@). So I called up the surgeon's office again, and the insurance specialist is amazed, and is going to call and grill them tomorrow. So it looks like (MAYBE) I will be covered. AND even more good news. If I qualify, they pay 90% when previously I thought 80%. Nervously awaiting tomorrow's phone call.

I might not qualify

So after five months of doing the weight loss trial, I was just informed that I needed to have a doctor's weight of a certain number every year for the past FIVE years. Well, um, I don't think I have doctor records for 2009 and possibly 2010 and even if I do, I was doing great some of that time, so the number won't be high enough. So bummed. But going to make some more calls tomorrow. I hate getting this information at the end of the business day so I can't make more calls. Effing great.

Exactly What I Need to Do

I saw this image on Facebook today, and boy did it kick me in the pants.

I NEED to stop talking/crying/whining/writing about my problems, and start thinking about the solutions.

That means:

1. I need to make grief counseling a priority, as I keep putting it off. I am on a waiting list but there are things I could do to make it happen faster.

2. I am very out of shape, just walking is work at this point. SO, solution, START WALKING MORE.

3. I need to continue researching WLS and make a DECISION on what I want to do, so I can start preparing myself and my family.

4. I need to stop feeling isolated and lonely in my grief and START reaching out to friends more. I don't need to wait for them to check on me, I can tell them what I need!

5. I am lonely without my mom. Solution, start working on building relationships with others to help fill that void. Honor her memory, but get what I need from those that are still here.

6. My anxiety has been paralyzing at times. I am on more medications so that is part of a solution, but I also need to use prayer and meditation more to help with this. I know when I use meditation combined with essential oils I am able to calm down, so I know this solution works. So then why don't I do it DAILY?



So there, I am thinking of solutions for these pains/problems in my life. At least for this MOMENT. Will I have set backs? Uh, for sure. But at the end of the day, I need to be working on how to get better, both physically, emotionally and spiritually. Staying in this place of pain is not good. It isn't good for me or my family. It isn't good for anything. It doesn't honor my mother or celebrate her life.

What are some problems you have in life, that you feel it is time to start finding solutions for?

Scales are FUN, right?

That's my girlie. She loves to weigh herself every time we go to Publix. And while she is wanting to always GAIN weight, because that means she's growing, I still hate it. I hate that at 4, she's already thinking in terms of half pounds. If she's 40lbs she's happy. 39.5, not so much.

It's not like we discuss this with her. The scale is there, she got on it once when she was little so we could see what she weighed, and now, it is a ritual. I don't want the scale to determine if she's growing.

I want her artwork to determine that she's growing in her creativity. The way she runs faster and with purpose, new games she learns, funny sayings she makes up and the songs she sings, oh! and books she can now sound out the words too. THOSE things determine she's growing up. Not half pound markers on some random scale at the place we buy food. The place that also gives away free cookies to keep your kid quiet while you shop. Don't get me started there.


My daughter isn't in school yet and we are pretty vigilant about what she watches/reads/sees/hears. She doesn't know I'm fat. She just knows my belly is comfy. She just knows my breasts are pretty big and jiggly and she likes to snuggle on them. She knows I am trying to eat healthier, so I can "run faster." Food fuels our bodies, and so that's a lot of how we discuss it. Will this apple make me run fast? How about this cookie? I don't know if this is the right or the wrong way to go about it, but she seems to be good with a balance of nutritious food and junk. Of course, given free reign, the cookie would always win.

They say the number one predictor of childhood obesity is the mother's weight.

I weigh over 300 lbs. (that was supposed to be a secret, but hey, I think you could probably just look at me and figure it out, so why lie?)

I don't want my girl to suffer what I suffer. Being out of breath, not running fast, not fitting places, feeling sluggish, insecure about her appearance. And then later, high blood pressure that stays a bit high even on three medications. Diabetes type 2 that will slowly destroy my body. And whatever else comes next.

So when I try to weigh the pros and cons of WLS, a lot of it is with her in mind. Is it going to help me be a better mother? Is going to save her from becoming me? I'm scared to have surgery, that I will have complications and not be here for her. But then I am scared I'll stay this way forever, here for her, and ultimately condemning her to a life of fatness.

And we all know, fat ain't fun.

Three Months Ago

Three months ago, I found my mother dead. I'm really hurting. This blog is not all weight loss, so if you don't want to hear about other stuff, this is not the place for you.

I have flashbacks every day of the moment my hand reached out to touch her bare back, only to find it cold, and her dead. I screamed and thrashed on the floor until neighbors came to help. I always knew this would happen "one day" but I was so ill prepared. I loved my mother. I know, we ALL love our mother's, but I REALLLLLLLLLY loved mine. She was such a huge part of our lives and I don't know how to function without her.

I have a million things I want to tell her. So much has happened in three months.

Mom,
Mia puts her head under water now. She likes My Little Pony instead of puppies now. Can you believe it? After all these years, no to dogs, and yes to ponies? The gardenias bloomed this year, first time ever. I know you would have loved them. The mosquitos are bad this year, you guys would not have been able to play on the swing set. Oh, and Mia hasn't used the swing set since you died. Jason took her to the park, and she didn't want to stay, She said swings weren't fun without her Gaegae. Oh, and you know how you think your dog was so sweet? Well, she's a stinker. She sits in front of the doggie door and won't let Dolly in sometimes. Dolly barks and barks, and Chloe just sits there watching. I sleep with a pillow from your bed every night. I dream of you all the time. I am sorry for the times I was a shit. I know there were a ton of them. I love the searger you got me! I can't believe you did that. I wish I could have thanked you. You were right, trimming the front tree did make it grow better. We never got to tell you, because you died the next day, we were going to surprise you with a Disney trip so you could see Mimi ride all the rides. I hate you never knew. Mia has Vacation Bible School next week, and I get to be an assistant teacher. The church has really tried to take care of me since you died. I shut down my sewing shop, but still have Tipsy Toast open. Daddy came to your service and said such beautiful things about you. He also said streetwalker in church. I wish I could have saved you. I know if I had checked on you the day before this would not have happened. I miss you. I hate not having you. I love you. You were awesome. Oh, and I wish we could make some tortillas from a mix, you know, homemade style.

I love you.

P.S. What do you think of this gastric sleeve stuff? Wish you could tell me your thoughts. You, while I never professed it before, we a smart lady, and I always valued your advice. Whatchya think?

This stuff has got to go

Oh, how I love thee, Diet Coke! But we must part ways. I don't know when I shall kick you to the curb for realz, but your days are numbered.

Declared yet Undecided

No, I'm not going back to college.

Today I had my 5th medically supervised weight loss appointment. I was up 5lb. That's a whole other story. See below post regarding need to eat birthday cake on a daily basis. Anyway, I have been doing the medically supervised weight loss trial for WLS approval, but had not yet decided if I was actually going to have surgery. Over the past few weeks, the hubs and I have discussed it at length, and he has FINALLY (he hates having opinions) said he thinks I should go for it, because he is concerned about my health. So I DECLARED to my doctor today that I do want surgery and I want the Lap-Band.

And now I'm undecided. His opinion (and I have not done any research yet) is that I should go with the gastric sleeve instead. He said he doesn't like the Lap-band for his patients for a few reasons: 1. not as effective 2. constant appointments 3. high rate of complications (while not serious) 4. Just a lot of hassle after the fact. He thinks sleeve would be a better route for me. He does not think gastric bypass is the way to go either, as I am just so young and can get plenty of exercise in once I get some of the initial weight off. I am a bit terrified of gastric bypass anyway, as I have seen all the media horror stories. Please take no offense of you have had GB, I am just saying my feelings of fear, not that you were right or wrong. He also said sleeve was way less risky than bypass because it is a much shorter surgery, and they do not mess with your intestines at all. So that sounds good.

So now I have declared I am going to do WLS, I am just undecided as to which one. Honestly, the band has appealed to me most because it was least invasive/risky. But reading about things like "sliming" and "PB'ing" have kind of turned me off to it. I want to follow the rules, chew, chew, chew, eat protein first, take small bites, ect, but from what I am reading many bandsters DO follow these rules and then still get sick?

This is a moment when I need my mother so much. She would analyze the HELL out of this with me, and go back and forth with me for hours about what is the right thing to do. She would never get sick of talking about it with me. She would pray with me, She would support me AND give her opinion, which few people seem capable of doing today. My husband will support me, in whatever I decide, but he isn't going to play the "let's discuss this for the next 34 hours straight" game with me. My mom would have. And she would have encouraged me no matter what. I MISS her so much. I know she wanted me to have LB surgery, but we had never discussed the sleeve.

Today when I came home there was a package on the doorstep. My sister-in-law had her church send a prayer comfort blanket for me. Basically it is a blanket the ladies prayed on to give the wearer comfort in time of loss/need/whatever. Very fitting since I need the comfort and advice of my mother, that I received it today. I don't know if it means something, but I am wearing it now, and while the tears have not stopped since I received it, it does feel warm and a bit like a snuggle. Nothing like Mama's snuggle, but still a nice snuggle.


What are your thoughts on the various WLS options? Have you had WLS? What did you choose and why?

P.S. it's been four days since my last slice of cake. That's progress, right?

Shake it up BABY Now, Shake it up Baby. . .

One of my biggest fears of bariatric surgery has been all this protein shake talk. I mean, I like a shake, of the Sonic variety, but I don't want to be drinking protein shakes as meals forever. I went to a support group and noticed about 1/3 of the people there were sipping protein shakes like they were martinis at a cocktail party. Not my idea of dinner or a party. I just want to be. . . ya know, NORMAL.

But then I got to thinking, protein shake or an entire large pizza? Which would normal people consider more normal? Protein shake or all you can eat Chinese buffet? Protein shake or $12 in tacos from Taco Hell? THAT's A LOT of tacos! See, I had been telling myself I wanted to eat "real" or "clean" food, and thus, protein shakes were not for me. Wayyyyy too processed. Ya know, like my Diet Coke is all natural. @@

So I decided to give it a go. I looked around online and actually found a site with all kinds of yummy protein shake recipes. I made a list, ran to the grocery and picked up my first powdered protein. I brought home a giant container of vanilla whey protein, thinking I was set for life. But here's the catch, they only fill them up half way!

Anyway, I made a couple of different shakes over the last couple of days, and they were actually GOOD. Like, yummy. Like, not quite from Sonic, but if there was a generic Sonic shake, maybe these could be one of them!

Here is my favorite one so far:

1/2 cup fat-free cottage cheese (sounds gross in a shake, but it isn't!)
1 scoop vanilla protein powder
1 tbs. fat-free cheesecake pudding mix
1 packet splenda
1/2 cup water
10 ice cubes or a few more
1/2 cup blue berries

This made a huge shake. Which makes me wonder, when drinking a shake after Lapband surgery, how many ounces can it be? This was probably close to 16, had less than 300 calories and a good 35-40 grams of protein. Plus blueberries, which are filled with antioxidants, and not too sweet if you worry about blood sugar.

Here is the website where I learned of this fabulousness: http://dashingdish.com/

So, that's one fear of bariatric surgery gone. I like protein shakes!

Tell me, what's your favorite shake recipe?

Fat, Sick and Sad

So I've been fat for a while. 12 years to be exact. I struggled with being a chubby girl but was always able to stay "just slim enough" to not be labeled fat. I always wanted to lose ten lbs. Then it became 20. Then 30. And now, today, at 38, I have 140lbs to lose. I would like to say I'm not sure how that happened, but I know how it did. It happened in 30-40lb chunks. One day I was struggling at 176, desperate to get back down to 150, and then, I was 210. And after a few years of maintaining 210, I was suddenly 250. Weight gain does happen over night for me. I am not the gain a couple pounds here and there girl. I either maintain, or pack it on faaaaast. Like supa fast. And it usually happens when something big is going on in my life. New move, quit smoking, another miscarriage, mom dies.




So, that leads me to this part. My mom just died. It's been almost 3 months. And I am swimming in a sea of grief, swallowing huge gulps of salt water as I try to catch my breath. My eyes are stinging, I'm sunburned, and sick of eating sand. I'm freaking exhausted. And this ocean is big, and there doesn't seem to be a lifeguard working anywhere nearby. And so I eat. And cry, and then have another piece of birthday cake. I've eaten more birthday cake in the last 3 months than I think I've probably eaten in my entire life. The cashiers have stopped asking "Ahh, so whose birthday?" and just ring up my cake now.


My mom died due to type one diabetes complications. She was just a teen when diagnosed, and it just pooped her body out. Amputations, constant hospitalizations, ongoing battle with staph/MRSA, neuropathy, partial blindness, quadruple bypass surgery, congestive heart failure. It was just a hard road. And oh how I wanted her to be healthy and how I nagged and nagged her to eat better, to follow her diabetes diet. And she just couldn't do it. She wasn't overweight, but she just couldn't seem to manage the balancing act of nutritious meals and the right amount of insulin. Her blood sugars went sky high and wayyyy too low. Oh it made me MAD! But here's the kicker: 9 months ago I was diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. I cried, my mom cried harder, and we both vowed I would change, lose weight, do better, be healthier. And now I weigh 30lbs more than that day.


A couple of months before my mom died, I decided to think about getting Lapband surgery. I started the insurance mandated 6 months medically supervised weight loss trial. I'm four months in. I am pretty sure I am going to do it. I am also thinking about gastric bypass. I waiver between the two. But one or the other is going to happen, hopefully by the end of the year. If I could do it on my own, I would have already done it. I am not happy being obese, nor does it feel good. I am terrified of being ill, just like my mom was, and I have too much to live for. My girlie (4), my hubs, and for my mama looking down on me from Heaven.


I know surgery can't keep me from eating birthday cake. And so, I am also enrolling in grief counseling and hopefully some emotional therapy to work on why I turn to food for comfort. I know it isn't just my body that is suffering, it is my mind too. My body is just the part where it shows the most, as I waddle around, trying to fit in places that are too small for me. But it is my mind and emotions that made those seats at the theatre too small, and the jeans at regular stores too tight. It was my mind and emotions that got me this double chin and prevent me from jumping on a trampoline with my daughter.

I don't want my daughter to break into my home one day and find me slumped over, and to press her hand to my back and try and hold me, just to find I am ice cold and dead. And so, I've got to stop this way of life I've got. And get a new one. One where I nurture me, so I can love others, and LIVE.