I swear I’ve had far more issues with my husband’s bariatric surgery than he has. I knew life would be different post-surgery, but I didn’t realize the struggles that would come for me (not him). No wonder there is a support group for spouses of those who have undergone a bariatric procedure!
It seems like ever since (and a little before) my husband’s gastric sleeve surgery, I’ve been losing control and facing food disorders I thought I’d conquered years ago. I have spent far more days out of control or just coasting (maintaining) than I have staying in control and actively making good choices.
It’s been 3 weeks and 4 days and of those, I’ve only had 5 days when I was taking steps forward.
I vented out to my new support group (for spouses of those who have had a bariatric procedure) and that’s when I got my control back for those 5 days. So maybe getting all my feelings out here will help me get back to the person I know I can be.
I’ve done it again… hit my “max” weight regain allowed. I came up with a rule a few years ago that in a current weight loss journey, I cannot regain more than 10 lbs from the lowest weight I’d achieved so far so I never again regain all that I have lost and more (done that two times now).
Although it occurred not on an actual “official” weigh-in date, I got down to 261.8 lbs (that’s 57 lbs down from my highest weight). I hit that June 30th… right before the weight loss slow down/hypothyroidism symptoms started during Keto. This morning I saw 271.
The last time I saw that weight, it was August 28th, before his surgery and during the “last meals”.
Those 5 days of getting back control had me back down to 263.8 lbs (Sep 24th), but then I freaked out again.
Freaked out as in got emotional, got frustrated (water weight due to having sodium via beef broth & therefore messing up my official weigh-in) and had a hormonal wonky day where I was so mad one second and wanted to cry the next (sounds JUST like PMS, but the timing was wrong).
And then yesterday… I answered EVERY food whim I had.
This is rare.
For breakfast I just got it in my mind to have pancakes. I would normally ignore this impulse, but I made pancakes. I barely got to 16 hours fasted. I had to make them in a sneaky manner as not to alert my hubby I was making something I know he enjoys, but can’t eat at the moment. I was almost done and at the point of eating, but sharing with the baby who was sitting next to him (he was on the couch watching TV) in her highchair, gave it away and he noticed. Whoops.
That was bad enough… a large plate of oily (because I basically fry them in oil), crispy pancakes with fake sugary syrup. Ugh… just typing that makes me feel ill, but they were good going down.
But it didn’t stop there.
When I was making my daughter some dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets (something I do frequently as they are her new addiction and sometimes they smell SO GOOD, but I hadn’t had chicken nuggets in a LONG time) and decided to make myself some as well. I would usually hem and haw, try to talk myself out of it, etc. but the choice seemed so casual… like, yeah, I’ll have some too… no debate, no pause asking ‘should I?’.
I sat down right in front of my hubby, who looked at me strange when he saw I had 6 nuggets and a glob of ranch dressing & a glob of BBQ sauce on my plate because even he realized this was out of character for me.
They were awful. Not worth it.
I wasn’t done there.
On the way home from a shopping excursion, the whole family was thirsty and everyone had already took part in devouring the water I’d brought and there was no more left. Our purchase was hanging out of our car, the back gate open, my passenger side window broke and was stuck down, so we were avoiding the highway and taking the much longer back roads home, so we opted to stop at a gas station and buy some drinks.
I could have just gotten water, but my kids were getting juice or flavored tea and I LOVE peach tea. They didn’t have any sugar-free versions, so for the first time since I don’t know when, I got the full sugar kind. It was SO GOOD… too good. I drank that so fast.
I wasn’t done there either.
I had lobster ravioli for dinner. In general, I avoid pasta, but especially ravioli or tortellini because I have a hard time keeping my portions small with those.
I went back for seconds. This *was* worth it.
But this is when the stomachache started. Well, more of a lower intestinal ache… I think those pancakes were landing HARD.
Even with the ache, I got on my brand-new bike and tried it out (we’d spent hours at Dick’s Sporting Goods). Then tried out the kid tow attachment we got to go with our new bikes. My two girl’s combined weight is 85 lbs. I circled the entire neighborhood towing them.
I was out of breath and my legs were jello when I was done.
I drank down some water, sat & relaxed a hit and then got the kids to bed, then hubby to bed and then I was left alone to my own devices.
The ache had gone away. I felt full (as I should be!) and yet… I was watching a movie and wanted popcorn.
I had one of those ‘well I’ve already screwed up today anyway, might as well live it up and have whatever’ moments.
So, I ate popcorn… with extra melted butter.
I don’t know why that wasn’t sufficient, but it wasn’t.
I now wanted a quesadilla. So, I made one and enjoyed it with a small bowl of salsa to dip it in.
Well now I had spicy breath and wanted something sweet. Our house is limited on sweet choices, but we had sugar-free, fat-free pudding cups, so I had 2.
Then… I was *finally* done.
You have to understand that for YEARS now, I’d only have one of those off plan items in a given day (or just not at all)… not so many of them all in one day!
I haven’t eaten so poorly and complied with all of my food whims like that since 2013 when I was in the middle of a sleep deprivation & breastfeeding haze, on my way to gaining 60 lbs, before I set the 10 lb regain rule.
This can’t be more of ‘getting it all in before I can’t eat it anymore’ because it’s no longer ‘before surgery’… that has passed… excuse over, but that is where these issues all started. Those “last meals” before my hubby’s surgery totally reverted me back to old behavior and it’s like I haven’t been able to truly shake it.
I was reminded of old me… how yummy certain foods were that I’d been avoiding for so long. It was like giving an alcoholic a glass of beer.
Apparently, I was ‘back on the wagon’ for 5 days, then had a bad day and bam, yesterday was the alcoholic equivalent of getting hammered at a local bar.
I thought I’d be in all sorts of control with my hubby’s food choices no longer at conflict with mine. He was never a huge saboteur or anything, but there were a few times I’d be sticking to a diet and he’d just *mention* pizza and I’d want it. He got better with this in the last few years while I got better at ignoring my own food noise in my head.
So when the thought of him having bariatric surgery came up, I thought it was going to be the answer to it all. After YEARS of trying to lose weight alone, I was tired of being the only one. I thought my partner being in the same mindset and working on his own goals would be the difference of me sticking to it longterm and finally hitting some major goals.
I think it’s rocked my world and shook me to the core that apparently my hubby’s choices and his journey were having zero affect on me. I usually follow suit to the nearest adult, but his small eating habits haven’t rubbed off at all!
At the very least I should finally be able to just continue my journey without any interference from him, yet I haven’t been able to hardly get started. Wth?
It’s ME. It’s ALL ME. MY ISSUES. MY HEAD.
Oh gawd. That’s a scary realization.
Will this be the last time I have a day *this* bad? Can it be?
I have to stop giving in to every whim.
I must cut the habit of movie equaling popcorn.
I have to stop thinking messing up at 1 meal equals messing up the whole day.
I have to fix my head again to realize it’s a matter of being in control, not deprivation.
I have to think about my A1C and how low I’d gotten it and that not eating/drinking sugar helps my body get to that number.
I have to remember my goals… those capris in the closet I can’t wait to fit back into, my anniversary coming up that I bought a smaller sized t-shirt to fit into for (it’s says ‘wifey’), wanting to be smaller for the neighborhood ornament exchange in December, healthier for our planned family vacation in the spring.
I have to remember that my hubby is melting in front of me and I need to keep up with him and all the unhealthy foods and/or portions are just delays to that goal.
He finally got to the stage where his weight loss is becoming more noticeable, so maybe that triggered my freak out as well because it was a reminder I’m not doing so well these days.
A co-worker told him to get a new wardrobe because his clothes were looking baggy.
As of this morning he was 368 lbs. That’s 62 lbs down total, 32 lbs since the surgery.
This also means that as of this morning, the weight gap between us is less than 100 lbs.
Why is this significant? Because for the majority of our almost 18 years of marriage, there has always been a 100 lb (or more) gap between my weight and his.
I guess I took comfort in the fact that no matter how big I got, my hubby would always be significantly bigger. Now that he’s gotten the surgery, that is clearly not the case anymore.
I’ve lost my buffer.
I’ve also lost the default person to eat the naughty foods people give to us. So many times we’ve been given food over the years that I don’t touch and I could always count on him to ‘take the hit’ and eat it (he never minded). He can’t be that for me anymore and it’s usually things my kids aren’t interested in, so that leaves me. I really hate throwing away perfectly good food, but I might have to start learning to get over this (you’d think our families, friends and neighbors would be more sensitive to our goals of better health and not give us such things, but nope… can’t count on that).
So as you can see, my partner getting a bariatric surgery changes way more than just his weight. It is changing the dynamic of how I’ve dealt with dieting, with food, with how I feel about myself in relation to his size. It is all changing and I need to change to.
Today I will attempt to take back control.
Since I ate so late, it would take until 2:45pm to get to 16 hours fasted. Not sure I’ll go that long, but I’m going to try to stick it out as long as I can. Meanwhile, I’m drinking down lots of water to wash away the crap of yesterday.
Then when I do eat, back to the healthy choices and portions.
I HAVE to do something NOW. There is no more waiting, no more postponing, no more procrastinating. I’ve hit my max and can only go down from here.
I know the misery there is to come if I don’t make these changes. I will be fatter, I will feel fatter, my blood sugars will get worse and I’ll officially become diabetic, my clothes won’t fit anymore, I will have a bad attitude and be pissy. I will have no libido. I won’t want to leave the house even more than I already don’t like to. I won’t be a nice mommy or as involved/willing to help my kids and everyone SUFFERS when I don’t feel good about myself.
Is food worth that?
Maybe I should get that stitched on a pillow or something.