Marriage post WLS
In my previous post I spoke of our relationship leading up to my weight loss surgery. Somewhere in between being the young fun loving, social girl I was before marriage and the mom of 4 (one with many special needs) I was after marriage, I lost my way. I lost myself, my sense of self. I lost esteem and I lost interest. I became a shut in, I didn’t trust people, I feared what tomorrow held, and I guarded my sorrows as much as I guarded my children. I ate for comfort, I ate because I liked food, I ate because I was bored, I ate and ate and ate. With each additional pound, I lost interest in myself more and more.
While I was busy losing my way, my husband worked his tail off and when he was home he was content with shutting in and shutting down right along with me. This was our life. We loved our life, our children and each other.
I contemplated WLS for a while, did some quiet research, and kept the thought of actually pursuing it to myself. I realized that my children were getting older and active. I was attending more and more school functions, meeting neighbors, and being forced to get outside of my comfort zone. I had dieted, I always gained it back. My mind was made up, I was going to do this… and that is exactly how I approached Kevin with the news.
There was no discussion to be had. I was not asking permission or asking him to look into it. I was not asking anything. I was very bluntly telling him “I am going to have weight loss surgery. I go to a seminar next month, I should have surgery by summer.” I didn’t want to have to defend my decision to do this, and I certainly didn’t want to hear his discontent with the whole idea or how I presented it to him.
Admittedly, I am not the easiest person to get along with. I am strong in my convictions, I don’t bend easily, and I’m not nice when challenged. Can you see where these personality traits could be a problem? Yeah.. I know, I know.
Kevin was NOT in favor of my having surgery. He worried about me dying on the table and leaving behind him and four children. He worried that it was not a necessary surgery, and that as a result I could have a life time of ill effects. He worried that I wouldn’t be prepared for the way my life was going to change. He worried and worried and worried. I dismissed, dismissed, dismissed.
By the time my surgery rolled around, he was nervous but supportive. He knew that there was no turning around. I had started to make life changes before going under the knife. I had set my mind to it, and this was going to happen. On the day of surgery I was confident and calm, while Kevin was pale and quiet.
My initial post op life was a bit bumpy. There was the typical healing, but there were other health issues creeping to the surface. I had only just healed from VSG surgery when I had to have a complete hysterectomy. My poor husband was beside himself again. Worrying about my having another surgery, worrying about my health, and worrying about my healing.
Healing from the hysterectomy was a challenge. I was a mess. It was a long, difficult part of my post op life and I didn’t lose a lot of weight while recovering from the second surgery. In this time, Kevin watched with concern as I needed more help than I had ever needed before. He worried as I seemed to not heal as quickly as I had always healed before. His prior concerns had come to fruition in a way. He wouldn’t dare say “told ya so”, but I think in his gut he was more concerned with “what now”.
I did eventually heal, and every day I started to feel better, I gained confidence. The weight started to come off quickly, I got a little more sassy and before I knew it I was no longer the shut in I had been for the previous 10 years.
Dress sizes dropped, I started paying attention to my appearance, I ditched the yoga pants and tee shirts for jeans and cute tops, dresses and shoes. I did my hair every day and put on my face before going out. We started to have friends over more often, and eventually I started to go out more and more. As I submersed myself in rediscovering who I was, my husband was left with worries that he was losing his wife.
Kevin worried that I would start to get attention from other men, that maybe they would capture my attention as well. He worried that maybe somebody would be more appealing to me. After all, I was suddenly more social and more self confident, and he was still shut in, where I had been with him, but no longer was.
Our emotions were raw, nerves exposed. Simple comments such as “Oh, why are you wearing a dress?” were interpreted as “who are you trying to impress?”. My pleas to “lets go out and DO something” were interpreted as “life around here is not good enough”. Hackles were up, we were/are/have been in defense mode. Communication has been strained. My feelings are easily hurt, as I feel my joy is being crushed. My raw emotions have left him in a place of feeling as though he can never say the right thing.
I have embraced a new way of life for myself. I have been supported and empowered by friends, and with that support I have found confidence to push myself further where exercise is concerned. I have found a source of peace and serenity in the outdoors, despite how high the temperatures may be. I open windows and breathe in fresh air and soak in sunshine. This is not at all the person I had been. These new habits starkly contradict the shut in lifestyle we had carved out for ourselves. I’m inpatient and I want him to jump in with me. Lets get up, lets go out, lets do something. Lets be outside, we can go to a park, maybe the lake, how about the falls? Lets just GO… SOMEWHERE… PLEASE?
Only, he doesn’t want to go out. That is not his comfort zone. That is not the life we carved out. That is not his idea of a nice relaxing day, especially in the heat of summer.
And so, right now, we teeter on the brink of understanding. We see where the other comes from. Neither really willing to bend much in the other’s direction. We seem to talk in circles. Each listening to how the other sees their side of things, neither doing a whole lot to meet in the middle.
Currently Kevin is in his 3rd month of pre-op appointments required for the VSG surgery. He thinks that the surgery will help bridge the gap. I worry that with out life changes before surgery, life after surgery will be more difficult. Now I’m the one with the concerns, and he is the one saying “this is going to happen.”
There is no telling somebody that they way they feel is incorrect. Their feelings are THEIR feelings. Emotions run deep, and change hurts, and life gets rocky.
Despite everything we have been through as parents, especially of parents of a sick child, we have never been in a place like this. Where a sick child is concerned, there is sorrow, but not blame. In the post WLS life, there is change, which leads to discovery, which can’t happen with out shaking things up a whole lot, which leads to blame or guilt or both.
While we seem to be in different places, on different pages, in completely different books even… there has never been a lack of love. Change does not erase history. We are a family. We are going through growing pains. We may not be our most graceful right now, but we will make it through with bumps and bruises and a few war wounds. But we will make it through, won’t we?
Relationship Before WLS
We all read about it before we go under the knife. We all wonder what exactly WLS can do to a marriage or a relationship. Why would anything change simply because my weight has changed. The answer is, first of all, so much more than your weight changes. Second of all, your new found sense of self impacts every single relationship you have, especially the one with your significant other. The following is all about my life BEFORE WLS. The After will be in another blog.
Kevin and I started dating in ’97. After a sad break up and a whole lot of partying a year earlier, I had packed on some pounds. I was probably wearing a size 14/16 when I started to date Kevin. Kevin was a big guy. 6’3 or so and probably about 280lbs. I would say that we were both slightly overweight, but I wouldn’t call us obese (yet).
We dated for 2 years before we got married. In those two years we did a lot of eating out, theme parks, movies, socializing. We were a typical young couple having fun and enjoying life. As our relationship evolved into a place of comfort, some pounds were packed on. It didn’t matter to either of us. When we got married in 2000, we were a cute, slightly chubby couple. We honeymooned in Disney and had no problem sitting on a plane or going on rides. We were not too big to do an amusement park. I say that, because I know so many of us in the obese community look at ads for amusement parks and wish we could fit on a ride, and spend a day or two being a big kid. Its a way of measuring ourselves. We all do it. We eyeball something and think “I’d get stuck”. At the point of our honeymoon, getting stuck was not a worry.
When we had our first child in 2002, we were both still comfortably chubby. Blissfully happy, madly in love and blessed with the sweetest little boy that ever existed (till he was bout 10 months, then the evil mastermind came out).
Not long after our 1st son was born, we were completely shocked and surprised to learn that we were expecting baby #2 and she would be due before baby #1 even turned a year old! HOLY HELL! Yeah, momma sort of freaked out. Daddy on the other hand, was challenged by a friend to lose over 100lbs by a certain date, and he immersed himself in a life style of health and fitness. I on the other hand immersed myself in life as a gestating stay at home mom. Cutting out carbs was never going to happen in MY world. NO WAY!
4 months into my pregnancy with baby #2 we learned that our precious little girl had a number of health issues and birth defects. The hardest time of our lives was about to begin, and together we would learn how to weather the storm. Our baby girl was not expected to live. Not more than a few hours at most. “Incompatible with life” is the term we heard over and over again. Our hearts broke. We learned what true despair felt like. We had one baby who needed his happy mommy and daddy, because that was all he knew, and we grieved for the baby who grew with in, kicking and spinning just like every other baby does.
Kailey was born Feb 2003. Just 4 days short of her big brother’s 1st birthday. Nothing could have prepared us for the roller coaster that lie ahead. Kailey lived more than a day. Kailey had medical experts all around and has made medical journals. Kailey is now 8 years old, and while she is considered medically fragile, no body ever told her that. You can check out Kailey’s story at www.kaileyrose.com. While her story is a pivotal part of “OUR” story, this blog is not about our wheelchair warrior. It is about us.
While Kevin lost a boat load of weight by the time Kailey was born, I started to steadily pack on the pounds. Food became a source of comfort and coping for me.
At this point, the story turns a little. As our baby fought for her life, time and again, we fought to learn how to cope, communicate and grow. Kevin threw himself into working multiple jobs, so that I could stay home with the two little ones. Our days consisted of therapy after therapy and doctor appointment after doctor appointment. We learned to accept the hospital as a home away from home, and together we stopped caring so much about our own health and focused on the health of our children.
We had growing pains. When your heart is heavy, and what tomorrow holds in scary, you tend to lash out at the one you love the most. While nobody else in the world could understand what we were going through more than the other, we struggled to connect, afraid that sharing our sorry or fears would hurt the other more. But life fell into a rhythm and we lived day by day, thankful for our beautiful little family.
In 2005 baby #3 was born. By this time, we had relied on food to fill the dark spots within our hearts. While we rejoiced in every single day that our baby girl was alive and well, we feared that tomorrow would be the day that the floor dropped from beneath us. We put on brave faces, but behind closed doors, we were filled with fear.
Our precious #3 brought new light into our lives. He was the happiest baby alive. HUGE, but happy. Life started to even out a bit, but the two of us were offically now obese.
Over the years, we learned to communicate again. Our relationship was strengthened by the trials we endured. Our love was multiplied by the joy of our children. Despite the fear of what tomorrow held, we had bliss. Our lives were forever changed, but we had each other and we coped in similar ways.
We no longer went out, instead we shut in. We dove into parenthood and happily played with our children in the comfort of our home. We rarely went out, for fear of leaving the children. We were tried and true attachment parents. Baby wearing, cosleeping, breast feeding attachment parenting at its finest.
In 2006 we moved from NY to Ga. Another roller coaster of emotion. Leaving behind everything we ever knew, and moving to a place where life was completely different. Kailey’s health took a turn, Children’s Health Care of Atlanta became our second home. She has spent more time there than she did in all of her years in NY. Unhealthy eating increased, as did anxiety and sadly so did our shut in behavior.
At the end of 2007 we welcomed baby #4 into the world. The one and only girl who was born with colic! I tell ya, that child came out screaming and did not stop until she was 4 months old! She is now a very vibrant, very social, extremely happy 3 year old. But ugh, colic… just one more thing I was never prepared to deal with.
My husband has been my best friend, every step of the way. We have been to hell and back living life with a sick child. We have had greater joys than most will ever experience, because we take such joy in everything our children do and are. We are surrounded by family and friends that love us, and don’t fear that our tomorrow may effect them.
This is all important to write about, because up next, I am going to share how Weight Loss Surgery has effected our marriage, our relationship, our harmony. We are trying to find out footing. I never would have expected that dealing with a sick child could be easier on a marriage than the changes that weight loss surgery has brought on.
Stay tuned. It will take a bit of soul searching to get this next blog out, but it will come from the heart and it may hurt to own my end of things.
Fun things every girl should have….
There was a great deal of planning for my trip to Dallas. I came home from there with the idea that there are a few things every girl should have. They are as follows:
This cheek stain is suitable for every skin color. From Vampire white to chocolatey brown, we all walked away looking sun kissed.
Because, you just can’t be rocktabulous with a store bought one.
Also known as a jingle butt, because you will rock the socks off of all the locals where ever you go. There will be a new trend hitting Dallas soon. Mark my words, these things were a hit!
One can never have too much glitter. This is especially eye catching and incredible.
A dress you love. Screw what the fashion mags say. Get something that makes you feel sexy! It doesn’t have to be black!
Yes folks, the shoes really do matter. Great shoes make for a great sexy woman! Have I mentioned one can never have too much glitter?
Own your pouty lips ladies. A great glossy set of lips makes a girl feel down right beautiful!
You can’t have an awesome night with out a great group of friends, including one tall dark mysterious woman and one very special Token male.
Nearly a week has passed since my time in Dallas and I’m still invigorated and inspired by the people I was with and the fun that was had.
Whats better than the numbers on a scale?
The numbers on your jeans!!!
A year ago I worse a size 24-26. I was a big big girl. I was unhappy about my weight, unhappy about my over all lack of energy, and frankly I didn’t give a damn what I looked like.
My mother has always said “if you don’t feel well, take a shower, put on your face and fix your hair. You will always feel better if you look good.” While I was a size 26, I rarely put on my face or did my hair. The over all package was just not going to get better. I didn’t FEEL like feeling better.
Now, every day, I put on my face and fix my hair. I am ready and armed to face the image in the mirror, the emotions of the day, the good and the bad that lurk behind the corner. Every day I get out of my PJ’s and get dressed. Day after day there are small changes. Remember, I am still in the honeymoon phase of weight loss surgery. Little by little the clothing has gotten smaller and smaller. The tops went first. A 4x down to a 2x seemingly over night. Then a 2x to a XL, then XL to a L. WOW. The moment I walked out of the “women’s” department and went into the “misses” clothing was monumental. It is one of those moments, burned into my memory. Walking down that aisle, away from the fat girl clothes, and into the “normal”. Then, shortly after the tops started to shrink, the pants went down too. Slowly I started to see sizes that I had not seen in years.
Today I went shopping with my dear friend Julie. Julie had Gastric Bypass 18 months ago. Her sizes are still dropping, although she seemed to be stuck in the mindset that they weren’t. In the spirit of making her try on a size smaller than she was wearing, I grabbed a pair of “skinny” jeans. Low cut, tight leg size 12′s. These are not your momma’s size 12′s. I laughed at myself as I thought about trying them on. “oh Michelle, you are so going to get stuck!” Mind you, I have size 12′s already, but lets just say that they are rather liberal in their sizing.
Off to the fitting room I went, armed with “not your momma’s” jeans and a “totally your momma’s” top. LMAO. I wasn’t looking for a mind blowing experience. Just for the fun.
After some laughing in the fitting room, I came out in my skinny jeans and a soccer mom top. Julie said unacceptable, and off we went in search of a more suitable top. We went back to the fitting room, me with a bazillion different tops that were as close to “NOT BLACK” as I’m willing to go. Julie with more jeans.
We left the store two happy women. Both of us slightly shocked that we were in the sizes we were in. Both of us impressed with the other’s willingness to try it, and not freak out. (Have I mentioned to you that fitting rooms are one of my worst nightmares?)
So here I am, in my new skinny jeans, my new sleeveless top.. because frankly I have batwings, they are not going anywhere and its 100 damn degrees in Georgia, so sleeves are stupid!
Ownership & Support
I’m in flight right now, on my way home from a great visit to Dallas. I went to support my fellow bariatric bad girls, for their North Dallas BBGC support group meeting.
The meeting itself is everything a support group should be, and more! A fresh, realistic approach to life before and after WLS. We had pre-ops, revisions, and post ops spanning from months to years.
The topic, as presented by our own Token male BBG Travis, was about endurance athletics & the post op life. This deserves it’s own post, so stay tuned, because it will be coming soon.
Today’s post is about what blossoms when you feel supported & loved by your peers.
We decided some time ago, that we would make Saturday night a special night for a few close knit group of us. While many of us had never met in person, we have known each other well & there was no “newness” to being in each other’s company. We are friends, founded upon support & reality.
In the planning stages, we decided to own our beauty, personalities, & everything amazing about ourselves. As a group, we were electric!
We went out, adorned with hand made, beautiful tiaras (Mel, you rock!), bindis, and jingle butts (aka belly dancing scarfs). The girls even found a purple blinged out hat for Travis.
We had a nice, quiet sushi dinner & then we headed out to a bar for some karaoke.
We walked in and owned ourselves, the floor, the stage! We turned heads & had many questions. “bachelorette party?” “birthday?” “belly dance troop?” or “are you just awesome?” The answer? We were so much more than awesome.
We had quite a few of our beautiful girls singing their hearts out. We danced, and supported people we didn’t know, while they sang. We worked the room and got people up and dancing. I’m not sure that there was much sitting down to be had the entire night.
We planned to have an incredible night. I don’t think, in our wildest dreams, we could have planned for the epic success we had. We are strong, we are beautiful, we are loved, we are proud & damn it…we have journeyed far and wide to get to a place of owning our successes.
Every once in a while, it’s good to let go of your inhibitions & just embrace the person you are.
With out the support of the BBGC, I don’t know that I would have been in a place to dance the night away. But I am supported, loved, and I did dance…like nobody was watching (but they were 
)
Then and now & Now and then.
I went to see my surgeon today. I need to get labs redrawn, so I had to go see him first. Makes sense right? NO it does not! Give me the labs, let me get them drawn, I’ll see ya next week for results! NOPE. Go in, say “HEY” do the “You look great” thing with the entire staff, some of whom I have never seen before, but I guess it’s their standard hello there. Then go into the back with the nurse, who says “Hope on Mr. Scale” <puke> not because of the scale, but because it was named “Mr.Scale” <double puke>
Now I have sort of, kind of, kept a running tally in my head as to how many lbs I have dropped. It got sketchy there, because I was sure my highest weight was not recorded with this doctor but with my OBGYN. Anyway, I was wrong. Its recorded.
I have lost 140lbs. I have lost the equivalent of a human. The size of one of my teenage nieces. More than 3 of my children combined.
It has been 10 months since my surgery, and I have stalled more times than I care to count. I have had to change routine, diet, and exercise frequently. I STILL struggle to hit 1000 calories in a day (if I’m keeping it healthy. Unhealthy eating can get me an easy 1K). I have watched my clothing go from a size 24/26 to a size 12. I have struggled with clothing size changes each and every time. The anxiety that the fitting room brings is unexplainable. I still fear getting stuck in a shirt or a dress, or ripping the item I am trying on.
I can recall getting on the scale day after day and not seeing the numbers change, and I can recall getting on the scale and seeing 8lbs gone in one day. There really is no rhyme or reason or rational explanation as to how the numbers decide to move.
Every day I get out of the shower and notice changes in my body. Recently I have noticed that my shadow has slimmed down too. I don’t know why that was surprising to me, but I stood there and stared at the slimness of that shadow, marveling in how I have not noticed it until now.
I have documented changes here both physically and mentally. There are social changes as well. I feel as though my first blog post (about mean girls) was written yesterday. I feel as if I was just looking at the WLS community from the outside, but I know that I have planted my feet proudly on the inside of the community and I work passionately to be helpful and knowledgeable.
For some reason, having the doctor note the amount of pounds gone was a bit of a mind boggle. So much so that I came home and did the math myself, and realized I had shorted myself 10lbs.
This weight seems to have come off quickly, sometimes with struggles, other times effortlessly. It is surreal how much of a whirlwind it has been. One day saying “someday I will be under 200lbs” and another day saying “I remember when I hit 200lbs”.
Its daunting for me to think of how long it will take me to get to goal. Another 25lbs, the honeymoon is nearly over. The magic that is weight slipping away over night is over already. The days of working harder, being more active, pushing myself physically are the here and now. What will I look like at goal? What size will I wear? What else is going to change between now and then? I’ll keep you updated as I learn more every day.
Take Me Away…
Today started with my not wanting to get out of bed. Those days are rare now, where they were the standard a year ago.
I woke up feeling haunted. Something was just not right. This day, was going to be a rough one. Not for any one reason. Just a gut feeling.
I count my blessings that my children are all okay, and outside playing. I am thankful that the feeling of dread did not involve a health crisis with Kailey.
Regardless, this day haunted me. I couldn’t put a finger on it. I worried about everything and anything. I have spent the day over thinking, questioning, doubting, and over thinking some more.
I made the decision to retreat to my bedroom and hideaway the rest of the afternoon. My husband is home, and the children are out playing. I’m taking a time out, putting myself in a corner, and shutting down for a bit.
My heart is heavy. A friend, whom I love dearly, is going through the worst. Her pain will be worse in the upcoming days. I am unable to help her, but I wait, my hand out stretched. I am here. I understand, yet I don’t. I hate that other people have to live this. I send you love.
All day this chorus has run through my head. If only it were so easy. Take me away!
Take me away, a secret place
A sweet escape, take me away
Take me away to better days
Take me away, a hiding place
Who knew losing my ass would hurt so much!
Saturday was a lame day. I did NOTHING. Nothing I say. I sat on my ass and surfed around on the computer, while watching bad quality television programs and bitching at my husband.
At some point into the afternoon, a new sensation took over. It was a very significant pain! It was a bone aching pain.. IN MY ASS! This pain, was not the “haha, yeah that sucks” kind of pain, it was the “OMG, WTF is happening to me” type. It was not a muscular pain, or a tissue pain, it was BONE pain! My damn coccyx bone, which has been well padded against the hard surfaces of the world for the past 36 years, has been exposed and it is protesting!
I have heard of this pain. Quite often with in the WLS forums, people will complain of lack of padding in their arse, and the pain that follows. Up until now I have chuckled, and said to myself “ha! to only have such issues” WELL…. either I am a HUGE sissy, or these people have down played the pain in the ass! Because frankly, this HURTS! It hurts constantly. It is not mild, sort of slips your mind pain. It is like somebody has taken a vice grip to my tail bone and left it there, hanging and swinging about as I go on with my daily routine.
I’m going out now, to walk, exercise, look around and hope that lack of sitting will give my bones some much needed relief!
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