The Backstory, as it were

I keep making vague references to my weight loss history and promising to fill you in someday, with the intentions of doing it when I have nothing better to say.  The trouble is, it seems like I have a lot to say.   Here it is.  Sorry, it’s long.

I wasn’t always fat.   Not fat fat.  I have pictures of me in which I don’t look all that bad – unfortunately they are from when I was a child.  I can remember in high school, about 9th grade, weighing about 150 lbs and thinking I was fat.  Oh if I weighed 150 lbs now….but that is neither here nor there I suppose.  I’m not sure when it happened.  I think it had something to do with my parents divorce when I was 15 and my subsequent choice to live with my dad who was never home in the evenings, leaving me to eat nothing but mac n cheese and pizza every day.  School lunches consisted of french fries (huge plates of them) and mountain dew. 

The next thing I know for sure is that I had to take a fitness class in college to satisfy some requirement or other and as part of it, we had to take a fitness test.  I weighed in at 230 and the instructor looked at me over her glasses and informed me that I needed to lose weight.  Like I wasn’t already aware that I was fat.

That summer, I moved out of my house and while I was gone, I went a little nuts.  We ate frozen pizza almost constantly.  Mac n cheese was a food group.  The name of the game was scarf the food down and then have some ice cream.  I know I gained weight that summer, but I’m not sure how much.  I am similarly unsure of how much I weighed during my second year of college when I was back living at home.  Then I moved out of my house for good.

About a year later, I got married, and that is the next time in my life where I can pinpoint any fat-related information.  I *think* my wedding dress was a size 20, and it fit me pretty well.  I went on being fat for a while, but in the summer of 2002, something happened.  I joined weight watchers.

It worked like a charm.  I did it for about 3 months and I lost 40 lbs.  I was down to 225 and you could tell I was looking much better.  I was jogging 1.5 miles several times a week and watching what I ate.  The pounds were falling off like magic.  I had a fairly active job and that helped.  In the fall, though, I started a new job.  This one was a sit down job and I was working so much I didn’t feel like I had time to follow WW anymore.  I stopped.  I kept the weight off, but I didn’t lose any more.

A few months later, I got pregnant with kid #1.  I gained about 25 lbs with that pregnancy but I didn’t get much of it off before getting pregnant with kid #2 a year after #1 was born.  When I was pregnant with #2, I gained about 40 lbs.  After kid #2 was born, I worked hard to lose the weight and I was back to my pre-pregnancy weight within 6 weeks.  Then I slowwwwly started to gain it back.  Then, I got pregnant with kid #3 when #2 was about 17 months old.  I started out doing okay as far as weight gain is concerned, but halfway through the pregnancy we found some issues with the baby and after that I didn’t care anymore.  I gained a lot more after that.  When #3 arrived and was totally healthy and fine except for a relatively small problem that we just had to keep an eye on, I was still suffering from the effects of the stress of the previous 4 months or so and I continued in my downward (or is it upward?) spiral. 

Pretty soon the health issues with Kid3 were resolved (he is 100% fine), leaving me fatter than ever.  In late 2008/early 2009, I decided to lose some weight.  I did.  I got all the way down to 288.5.  Then I went on vacation, and even though I was on plan through the whole vacation and lost weight while I was gone, I just was not able to settle back into my routine when I got home.   I don’t know what happened.  Slooooowwwwwly the weight crept back on, I think mostly because of my stupid evening drive thru habit.  Stress gets to me over the day and as soon as the kids are in bed I leave Hubster to hold down the fort and run to my good friend, food.  After a year of doing that, I had gained every bit of it back.

After that I had a few sputtering attempts to get back into my groove…but never got off the ground.  It was really annoying and stupid. 

Then…I don’t know.  Lightning struck.  I tried again, and this time it stuck.  I have no idea what was different.  I don’t really care, as long as it sticks through 100 more lbs.

If you are still reading, congratulations.  You win the determined blog reader award.  I know, this was a novel….sorry.  You totally rock.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Karen Ogle
    Jan 08, 2011 @ 12:54:18

    LOL. I love to read about other people weight loss journey. We have a similar history. I was never a fat child but compared to my beanpole brother, I looked larger and my mother was always on me to lose weight. The more she fussed the more I ate. By 11 grade I was about 175. I carried it well though and didn’t look horribly heavy but then the next year I moved in with my grandmother. She went out of her way to be sure I was fed well. That was just her way, the way she was brought up. Before the year was over, I was up to 200 pounds. I gained a bit more in college where the cafeteria food was starch-laden and OI drank excessive amounts of Mello-Yello. Most of the girls put on a few pounds there. It was a small college and the guys called the weight gain Carson-Newman hips. I definitely hit that category. Then I dropped out after the second year and got married. 3 kids later, I was up to 270. After a divorce, losing my grandmother, and being diagnosed with diabetes, I got it together long enough to get down to 2oo pounds again. I held there for a while but then remarried about the same time that I was put on insulin for my diabetes. I gained 100 pounds in one year. For the next 13 years I hovered between 300 and 330. When I realized I couldn’t do it on my own, I opted for gastric bypass surgery. I researched for two years until I was sure I could stick to the plan and then I did it. I don’t regret it for a minute. The only regret is that I wasn’t mentally ready to take on the postop plan many years before I finally did it. I let it go on for most of the the prime years of my life. I missed out on so much that I can’t get back. That thought gave me courage to really do it this time.
    Thanks so much for sharing your story.


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