August 2011;
Yep, that's me in the pink. 319 pounds. I thought I was happy. I didn't think my weight affected my daily life. I was (fairly) happily married, had 3 great kids, lots of friends, good social life & had perfected the art of denial after a lifetime of being morbidly obese. I was that kid who shopped in the women's department at 10 years old. I have a very vivid memory of going Christmas shopping for clothes at Montgomery Wards (hey, this was a LONG time ago) and buying a pair of cream colored jeans in a size 20. That's right, my waist size was double that of my actual age. I hated being a fat kid. Middle school was torture. Kids are cruel. It wasn't until about age 12 (7th grade) that I started to figure out the whole "if I make fun of myself first, no one else can hurt my feelings." So there it was, finally I had an identity. I was the funny fat girl. It made life easier, but those who knew me well, knew what torture and anguish I felt on the inside. However, my outside facade was amazing. I had a terrific 4 years of high school. Of course, I never went on a date, prom was out of the question and I had a lot of guy friends because their girlfriend's wouldn't be jealous if they talked to me. But I did make the most of those 4 years. I look back now and am proud of the friend and person I was. I wouldn't change a thing...except of course, the dreaded number on the scale.
So after high school, I got accepted to my dream college, BYU (yes, I was delusional) and moved out west. Soon, I was no longer interested in a bachelor's degree, I was interested in an MRS. degree & graduated to be MRS. ROBERT FOLLETT in June 2001. Shopping for wedding dresses was torture. Apparently fat girls aren't supposed to get married. I had to settle for a sequined short sleeve hideous (in my opinion) off the rack dress because it was the only thing I could fit in and afford. But oh well, I got to marry my guy so who cares how gigantic I was, right?
I had my first baby 9 months & 8 days after I got married. (Hey when God said multiply and replenish the earth, us young virgin Mormons took it very literal!) After my little stud muffin was born I, like a lot of moms, packed on the pounds. I was around 300 lbs when I got pregnant with my second baby in the fall of 2003. I had a very high risk pregnancy because of all of the diseases I had related to my weight. My blood pressure was out of control, I was borderline diabetic at this point & had issues with spilling protein in my urine. The last 8 weeks of my pregnancy I had to go to the hospital twice a week to have fetal stress tests because they were concerned with her movement & growth. Thankfully my little spitfire was born the last day of June 2004, healthy and loud! (Colic is evil!!)
So, within the next couple years I was diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes, fatty liver & High Cholesterol, yet SOMEHOW I still lived a life of denial because "I felt fine."
By October 2005, I was at my heaviest 328 pounds. I hated that I sweat all of the time. I found it embarrassing that by just walking up the stairs at work to clock in left me winded & panting. So I decided to get serious about learning to manage my weight. I went to a weight loss seminar that month & learned about gastric bypass & banding. I left that seminar snubbing my nose towards those people who had to "resort to that." No way did I need to do something that drastic to lose weight. I wasn't going to give up my soda & be responsible for every single bite of food I consumed. I could do this "on my own." So I joined Curves & Weight Watchers & yes, I did lose about 30 pounds. But then it happened...I fell off the bandwagon when that number on the scale didn't change for a few consecutive weeks. I got discouraged & angry! How could I not be losing weight?? I was exercising for Pete's sake! Don't they say the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over & expecting different results? So ha! Perfect excuse, I am not insane, so therefore I must stop exercising!
Yeah, ridiculous right?! The next couple of years were pretty unremarkable in the weight aspect. I got pregnant (at Disneyland, happiest place on earth!) the fall of 2008. My third pregnancy was terrible. I felt horrible, super sluggish, and I was on 5-8 different medications controlling all of my diseases. I was so high risk with this little guy. Looking back now, I am so grateful for good doctors that helped me at a time I was too foolish to help myself. My little man was born via c-section in July 2009. This, now, is chalked up as one of those "most embarrassing" moments. While being prepped for the unexpected c-section, I will never forget that my doctor was kind of "teaching" the doctor assisting him what he does in cases with "very obese moms." He actually taped my fat to get it out of the way. As in, used TAPE to lift my fat rolls & taped them to the drape to he could cut into my uterus. Wow. Wow. Wow. To be anxious & scared and to here the words "very obese" & hear the sound of "duct" tape being unrolled & attached to my fat was utterly terrifying.
BUT! You know me, I am nothing if not resilient! So, I pretended that didn't happen. If no one I knew was there to hear it, it wasn't true, so I blocked it out & moved on & lived that euphoria of new-Mommyhood with my studly little prince & happy little family. I am good! Who cares that I had to take 7 medications to be "healthy?" Who cares that I was a size 24? Who cares that those size 24 jeans were getting really snug? Who cares? I am a good person. People loved me. I was popular. WHO CARES?
Well...the answer to that question came like a lightening bolt in July 2011. I got a call from my mom back in South Carolina. Her doctor had found a large tumor in her stomach & they were doing a biopsy but were certain it was that dreaded "C" word. What?? Wait!! She can't have cancer! I still have so much I need to work out with her. I have years to do this still. I wasn't quite 29 years old. She couldn't die...could she?!?
So within the week my 3 kids & I had boarded a flight to South Carolina. They next few weeks were spent rotating shifts at her bedside between my father and I. Many many nights were spent sleeping on the fold out cot at MUSC thinking & worrying. What if I was motherless at 29? How could she possibly die? What would I do? How would I get over my issues with her if she weren't there to get over them with? Then...KABOOM!!! Honestly like a freaking lightening bolt it hit me! What if, just what it, 20 years from now, my own little children were having this same conversation with themselves about me?? What if I didn't get my weight under control and by the time I was 50 I was on death's doorstep because the diabetes had put me there? Or I had a major stroke due to my blood pressure? Or massive heart attack as a result of years of high cholesterol? What if, by ignoring my fat, I was in fact, ignoring my children & their needs? I would hate me if I were them! If I knew there was something my mom could do to assure she had many more years to spend with me but instead chose to continue to stuff her face with unhealthy foods. And shun exercise for reruns of Law & Order. In Oprah's words...that right there was my 'Ah-Hah' moment. I had tried for numerous years to get my weight in check. Just gave up because it was too hard. I knew, I couldn't do this on my own. So, I jumped on the computer one night at the hospital & started looking at programs in Utah that specialized in bariatric surgery. I then contacted my insurance company to ask if this was a procedure they ever covered & what I needed to qualify? I made appointments with 2 local programs. The first appointment was September 2, 2011. That was the day I truly started my journey to Heather 5.0.
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