supai
I seem to remember always being overweight. When I look at childhood photos, I look chubby to myself, but not obese. Yet kids were merciless in making oinking noises at me and calling me names. I was a bookworm, uncoordinated, hated sports at a time (the 1960s) when girls sports were not as common as they are now. I would come home from school and sit in front of the TV with my best friend Maryanne and devour a half gallon of milk and a whole package of oreos in an afternoon. Strangely, she never was fat.
My mom struggled with weight as well. We ate standard '60s suburban fare, hamburger helper, fish and chips, iceberg lettuce salad, canned veggies, We always had cookies, ice cream, and chips around, and we ate as much as we liked. My mom had grown up on a farm, trying to keep up with her big brother, and had been pretty athletic as a child. I remember her frustration with my lack of coordination and hatred of physical activity. She tried to interest me in softball or basketball, but I just couldn't do them right and would end up in tears every time.
A low point came for me in sixth grade, at the new middle school. I was not only heavy, as well as socially and physically awkward, but I hit puberty early and quickly. I was a fat girl in a woman's body. In PE class (always nothing but torture for me) we had to weigh ourselves in front of the whole class. Most of the girls weighed 90, 100, 110. I was 140, and all the other girls laughed out loud at me. Angry and embarassed, I taunted them back with the retort (just read somewhere, no doubt) that muscle weighs more than fat! Rather than blinding them with science, I made them laugh even harder.
By eighth grade I weighed 180. I could shop only in the plus sizes, which in the 70s meant polyester elastic waist slacks and muumuus. Dates and social life were out of the question. I was miserable.
The summer before ninth grade, I decided to do something about it. I wanted to look good for my big move to high school. I joined weight watchers and followed it to the letter. I lost about 30 pounds over six months, leaving me within an acceptable range. I could wear jeans again! Granted, they were size 15, which was the biggest size made. I had little wiggle room.
I managed to keep around 145-150 pounds all through high school. When I put on a few pounds, I just had to cut back on food to take it off again. Ah, the teenage metabolism.
I didn't go to college right after high school. Instead, I married young. I was amazed anyone would ever want to marry me, so at 18, when my boyfriend proposed, I accepted. I thought I'd better marry him quickly before he came to his senses, since i didn't think I'd ever have another chance. After struggling financially for a few years, I decided to go to art school and study graphic design.
In college, I got sloppy with my eating. Like many people, I put on a few pounds, was up to about 165 when I found out I was pregnant. My weight shot up to 210 with my pregnancy. Afterwards, I was about 180. i also quit college to take care of the baby.
Three years later, I had another baby. Weight up to 230, again down to about 180. Couldn't get it back down again.
I weighed about 180 for the next five years, through divorcing my abusive spouse, single impovershed motherhood, a short stint on welfare and a series of low paying jobs. I kept wishing I could drop a few pounds, but my food budget was based on the store brand mac & cheese being 10 for a dollar on a regular basis. I couldn't spend much money or energy on dieting.
In 1994, I met Greg, and fell madly in love. He was very overweight himself, more even than I was. But he was kind and gentle and fun loving. Happily in love, I joined him in ice cream and chips (my two biggest food downfalls). By the time we married in 1998, I weighed 210. By 2003, I was 245.
I tried many diets, weight watchers, nutrisystem, books and magazines. I went to a nutritionist, joined a gym. I may lose 5 or 10 pounds, after a huge struggle, but I would put it all back on depressingly quickly.
Greg, meanwhile, was struggling with his weight. He had been an athletic teen, on the swim team, working as a lifeguard in the summers. But a combination of complacency and a desk job, coupled with a lot of work related travel and restaurant meals, had pushed him into sleep apnea and diabetes. His father, who was not overweight,did not smoke, and got exercise, had suffered a series of heart attacks starting in his fifties. Greg decided to have a gastric bypass operation which took place on May 18, 2006.
At first I was not happy with his decision. It seemed too invasive, too huge of a step. But I supported his choice, and as his weight dropped, and his energy level increased, I became jealous. I wanted to lose weight too. (I ballooned up to 251 before surgery).
So on Feb. 8, 2007, I had a lap band put on. I hope it will be worth it. I am still too soon post-op to tell.
