"Normal" Eating?

I was raised by an anorexic/bulimic. This isn't a secret, and if my mother read this, she would agree. Her mother was also an anorexic, and felt she was overweight at 90 lbs. My mother knew the ins and outs of her eating disorders before I was even born. It was so not a secret, in fact, that she explicitly inducted me into the club as a pre-teen (or as they are called now, "tween"). She taught me, in clear language, that "this is what women do": diet to be thin, purge if necessary. I don't think this would have come to me naturally without coaching; I was and am much more prone to simple overeating. But this was my instruction, and I followed instruction until I realized that it was making me sick and miserable. This was around age 16.

Now I am raising my own daughter. She is only 9 months old, but I realize that she is already learning how to eat from me. She has been slow to take to solids, and it became clear early on that she was mostly interested in things she could hold herself, and things that her dad and I were eating. No baby food or purees for her. She wants real stuff. She often isn't interested in food at all, anything I offer her, so we skip a lot of "meals" since she is getting her nutrition from formula still. At least once a day I put her in her high chair and eat a meal with her, but it's rarely 3 times a day.

This isn't just her, though. I don't really eat "meals" when left to my own devices. Since I was banded, it seems like so much trouble to go through to prepare a meal for just myself when I'm only going to eat a cup or so of food. It's a lot easier to pick something out of the fridge that will keep me satisfied for the next several hours. And lately, those choices have not been particularly band-wise.

I realize this isn't normal. And while in a lot of ways it makes sense for me, my daughter is not banded. If she is lucky, and has good, healthy instruction in childhood, she will never need to consider something like that. But how do I teach her normal attitudes about food? How can I teach her how to choose a normal, healthy meal when I don't really know what that is myself?

My mother cooked meals for us, don't get me wrong. There were plenty of nights we ate out, or ate TV dinners, but usually she cooked dinner, we almost always had a packed lunch, and sometimes on weekends she would make breakfast. She is a good cook. And I give her a lot of credit for feeding us healthy foods and not letting us become picky eaters. We always had a good variety of foods, and when I ate with friends, I was always the least picky eater of the bunch.

I don't know why I have this aversion to preparing meals on a regular basis. I do, but I don't understand it. But I'd like to overcome it and teach Lucy healthy attitudes about eating. I think it is probably "normal" to have parents who cook or prepare most of your meals, to usually eat at least one meal together, and to eat sitting down, slowly. Not scarfing down something over the sink (I do that regrettably often). It's "normal" (I think) to learn when you are full and not be forced or cajoled into eating more than that amount. It's "normal" to mostly eat freshly prepared food (that is, not packaged/store bought/restaurant food) and to have sweets only "occasionally" rather than with every meal or every snack. Am I right? Am I missing anything here?

I don't eat normally. My husband doesn't either; we both are in the habit of grabbing something when we are hungry. He is better about it being something healthy than I am. He is more of a cook than I am, especially an everyday cook. But maybe I could make some sort of list of eating goals, and work toward them slowly, with a goal of modeling more "normal" eating than I had modeled for me? (Because, despite all those home-cooked healthy meals, the majority of the eating that took place in our house was anything but normal.)

Goals:

1. Cook dinner at home most nights.

2. Eat a variety of vegetables and proteins

3. Have fruit instead of sweets

4. Prepare healthy breakfasts at home (this I'm reasonably good at, especially hot cereals)

5. Eat slowly, at the table

Those seem like pretty normal goals. Any other bandster parents have comments to add? I have an opportunity to break or diminish the cycle, as my daughter is still a baby. I don't want to screw it up.

A Sedentary Life

Lucy and her nanny are off to the zoo today. Summer arrived in Portland a couple of days ago (in time for the 4th--a rarity in the Pacific NW) and I have mostly stayed inside, not only because of my gimpy leg, but I also got the yucky cold going around. I woke up last night around 3am unable to stop coughing, and had to find some cough suppressant to get through the rest of the night. Today my head hurts every time I cough.

Lucy has a bit of a stuffy nose, but so far that seems to be it.

Things are going okay. I am waiting to hear the outcome of my short term disability claim. I don't think it will be denied, but I haven't really checked to see if I really have an 8 day waiting period (instead of longer). I guess I have too many other things going on.

I haven't been weighing myself in the past week. I'm afraid what a week of inactivity will reveal on the scale. It can't be good.

Hubby is doing pretty well. He will probably come home around the 23rd of July, after 45 days of treatment. He sounds really good on the phone.

I guess I'm off to read, knit, or sleep.

Today's Gift

I get the "Today's Gift" daily meditation emails from Hazelden. I usually ignore them, honestly--most of them are too churchy for me. But sometimes one is really helpful, like this one, which seemed quite timely in light of both physical and emotional injuries that are in need of healing.

Stopping, calming, and resting are preconditions for healing. When animals in the forest are wounded they find a place to lie down and rest completely for many days . . . They just rest and get the healing they need.
--Thich Nhat Hanh

We hurt. We suffer. We wrong our loved ones and they do wrong by us. Reaching desperately for an answer will not help us. Pretending we're not hurt doesn't help either. When we are wounded, the wound needs rest in order to heal. So it is with our souls. If we poke at our hurt, pick at the sore, rub it in the dirt of others' opinions, we do not allow it time to heal.

If you've been hurt, accept that. Feel the hurt. Be aware of it. Let it heal. Maybe it would be better if you didn't talk to that person for a while. Maybe you need to let go of the relationship. Maybe you just need some quiet time. Whatever the answer is, find a safe place and allow yourself to heal.

If you're feeling pain, be aware of it. Feel the pain, and then quit picking at the wound. Lie low. Quit fighting. Relax. Give your wounds time and enough rest to heal.

No, Seriously...

We have been on our own for about 2 1/2 weeks now. Hubby is doing well in treatment. I talk to him daily, and he seems to be really getting into the program and practicing lots of new healthy behaviors. He sounds very healthy and honest.

On Sunday, I was getting ready to take Lucy for a walk outside. It was a gorgeous day, maybe 80 degrees, no clouds. I got her ready upstairs, put on shoes that I thought would both be comfortable to walk in and go well with my cute skirt. I then proceeded to slip on the second step and fall down the next 5.

Lucy was scared, and cried for a minute, but she was fine. I was initially writhing in pain and nauseated. At first I thought, "For sure, I've broken my ankle." Then I reconsidered: often, people think their ankle is broken and it's just a bad sprain. After about 10 more minutes though, I knew whichever it was, I had to go the ER.

Luckily I had my phone with me. I got ahold of a friend to take me to the ER, and my neighbor to watch Lucy while we were there. They got me through very quickly (I went to my own hospital) and in fact, I did have 2 fractures on my fibula (the thinner bone of the lower leg). The good news is that it does not need surgery. The bad news: 6 weeks of no weight-bearing.

If you are wondering how I am going to take care of Lucy with one leg, you're on the right track. Also, our house is 3 stories. There's no bathroom upstairs, or I could live up there. And if you're wondering if I can work, no, I can't. I should qualify for short-term disability with this. I can't drive either.

Hubby was sort of distraught at first when I told him, and wanted to come home, but knew after we talked for a bit that the best thing was for him to continue the work he is doing. I don't know why I'm not more stressed than I am about this turn of events, but I guess I've just sort of surrendered to it all. My nanny is still coming during the daytime to help with Lucy, and I'm lining up friends to come in the evenings and on the weekends to help with Lucy. I'm getting around okay between the crutches and the walker. I just can't carry Lucy anywhere. Lucy doesn't really understand why Mommy can't pick her up or play with her as much, but she is settling down a bit. Poor girl.

I guess the good news is that now I'm not working for a while...while I do really need the money, I'll make most of my salary on disability, and am forced to slow down and take care of myself more. People are bringing food...it's good to have friends and family who care.

A Different Path

I am now, temporarily, a single mom.

My husband had a serious relapse after a long series of small relapses. I won't go into the details, but there was plenty of heartache to go around. Finally, he agreed to inpatient treatment, and the recommended program is in a southwestern state. He left on Thursday morning, and will be gone for a minimum of 30 days, and likely 60-90 days in total.

Because of our history, I entered into parenthood with the knowledge that I might be a single parent eventually, but I don't want to be. And if this treatment program goes well and my hubby truly achieves meaningful recovery, then this will be a temporary bump in the road. But in the meanwhile, I'm piecing together a life for Lucy and myself on our own. I have twice as much childcare to pay for, and no personal time at all. Lucy is disrupted--sleeping poorly, wants to be held all the time. She's not really fussy, but normally she can entertain herself for a decent period of time.

I really should find a counselor for myself, and an Al-Anon meeting. But that requires more childcare, which isn't really in the budget. I don't have a large support network in Portland, because I have been focused first on my pregnancy and then with parenting since I moved back here. Also, things have been falling apart for several months, and I've isolated myself. So now I am working on cultivating some support. So far, I've had some luck, thankfully.

Did I mention that the program is very expensive? And we just lost a large chunk of our income by sending hubby to treatment? Thankfully our insurance pays for part of it, but the remaining portion is still staggering. I make a good income, but I don't know if it is enough--I've already had to borrow money to get this started.

I haven't really had much time to think about all that has transpired yet, but I know that is coming soon.

Hey, at least I've lost a little weight! But I'm finding that I have a bit of reflux when I am really stressed. I don't usually have it, and no food ever gets stuck or comes back up, I still never barf. I don't think the band needs to be loosened.

This program is really our only option, though. Addiction is deadly, and I know he will die early without real, meaningful treatment and recovery. I do love him dearly. And I do believe that addicted people are sick, not bad. But that doesn't keep me from hating the behavior, or being angry and hurt, and resentful for being left holding the bag here at home. I guess you could say I'm struggling.

That's my stuff today.

Finally

The scale is finally moving. After about 10 or so days at the exact same weight, it went down 2 pounds. It stayed there for about 4 days, then it went down another pound today. Whew!

For the first time since I was banded, I started having heartburn last week. It wasn't when I ate, it was always when I went to bed, which was usually about 3 hours after I eat. And even weirder, when I am home with Lucy, I lay down to nap with her pretty often, and would never get heartburn then. But finally I realized it was probably just my period causing it. It never happened before, but the last few nights I haven't had it. I did reduce my bread and rice intake, which I probably needed to do anyway. So I guess it turned out to be a good thing, since it helped me change my behavior, which is what the band is all about, isn't it?

I had a comment recently about the blog and about getting the VSG instead of the band. I think that's great. I've often thought that if I needed to have a revision done for some reason, I would have a sleeve instead. Finding the sweet spot with the band can be a pain. Every surgery has its pluses and minuses, but the VSG sounds like a pretty good surgery, and I know of a lot of former bandsters who had to revise and went to that. No matter how one feels about the band, I would definitely recommend something like a sleeve to anyone who is going to be living a significant distance from a follow-up care surgeon. Sometimes you need to be seen right away for a too-tight band, and if you have to fly somewhere it is a real problem.

I'll post some recent Lucy pics when I have another minute--right now, she beckons, adieu!

the longest journey

I haven't had much time for blogging, although I have thought about topics often. I find that when I am home I am too busy to even open my laptop, and I can't blog at work. So I am going to try on my phone, even though the phone app doesn't allow me to format.

Lucy is sleeping on me right now. Poor girl has her first cold, and she can't breathe lying down. She made it almost 8 months before getting sick, which I think is pretty good. We all had the crud this weekend, just in time for a planned visit with my father. None of us were up for much entertaining, but we made it ok.

My weight isn't getting higher or lower. It has been exactly the same, to the tenth of a pound, for about 9 consecutive days. Frustrating. I had a fill on Thursday but it was tiny. I return in 3 weeks. I can still eat way too much.

I have been to my new gym, and dropped Lucy off with the childcare they offer. They fell in love with Lucy and begged me to bring her back. Pretty cute. I will try to go again tomorrow. After not running during my pregnancy, I am back to square one with fitness. But for now I am just trying to reestablish the habit first.

So far to go to reach my goals! But I am hopeful that I will get there.

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Caution: Extreme Cuteness Ahead

Back to working the band

I have been wanting to blog for quite a while now, and have had many bloggy thoughts to follow up on. Now, I have a spare minute to do it, with baby and daddy asleep, and...my mind is a blank.

It's been hard to find some time to blog lately. Lucy is 7 months old now, and I want to spend all my time with her when I'm not at work. Consequently, I'm never on my computer at home anymore. I can do some limited web-surfing at work (check the news, Slate, etc) but I can't really blog or Facebook, so I'm just not on there much anymore.

I say "limited" because anything that requires real concentration (like blogging) isn't the best thing to do while taking care of a patient, and I couldn't do that. There are definitely moments in a case when the patient is stable, the surgeons are doing something tedious (I work in a teaching hospital, so routine cases usually take a bit longer since there is teaching going on) and I can check out msnbc. But if I become engrossed in writing something...that's not good, so I just don't do that.

Anyway...

I had my upper GI and fill on the 14th. It was good to get back to my original surgeon's office, and to have my insurance pay for this stuff! The upper GI was fine, Dr P said it looked like she had just put the band in yesterday (although it was one of her former partners, actually). She gave me a small fill, which I have noticed a difference from, but I still have a ways to go. I'm working on being mindful about eating, and making better choices, and I think it's helping--I'm bouncing around the same couple pounds, but I'm not gaining. And I switched gyms. Yes, I left my beloved march wellness, probably for good because their one location is really inconvenient now, and they don't offer childcare, so I only ended up being able to go about once a month. We have a 24 Hour Fitness less than half a mile from our house, an easy walk, so I moved over there. I added my husband too, and our dues together are only $10 a month more than I was paying for my own membership at march. And they have childcare. So, win.

Being a new parent, I find myself thinking a lot about how we are going to influence our daughter's attitudes about eating and body image. One thing I think about is that my husband and I have sort of evolved into an ad-hoc dinner style; we rarely plan and execute a sit-down dinner at home for ourselves. We often just grab a snack in the evening instead of making a meal for us both. The nights I work, I will come home sometime between 7 and 8:30 (unless I'm working late, then it's between 10-midnight). Hard to plan, and once I get home I have to put Lucy to sleep because she refuses to sleep if I'm not home (or she wakes up once I get home--don't know how she does it). But I would like Lucy to have a family that eats dinner together. So we'll have to work on this, and figure out what works for our family.

Lucy is growing like crazy. She got her first 2 teeth about 3 weeks ago, and is about to have her upper 2 come through as well. She sits up on her own and crawls on her belly (hasn't figured out how to get that belly off the floor yet). She laughs a lot, often at totally unpredictable things. She loves going on the baby swings at the parks. She usually doesn't like us to feed her solids with a spoon, but she'll eat anything if she can do it herself. She babbles all the time, and says "mama"--it used to be only when she was upset, but now she just says it randomly sometimes. She has the cutest little voice. She is getting so big so fast, it makes us sad sometimes that her tiny baby days are gone so quickly. But we have a blast with her.

A Letter

Dear Left Breast,

I know it is kind of odd to be writing to you. I mean, I don't think you've ever gotten any mail before. But I feel like I owe you a lot these days, and I want to thank you.

Almost 10 years ago, you were huge. I had surgery to reduce you and Right both, which was successful, and which I was quite happy with. That surgery helped me to exercise more and relieved my back and neck pain. You were just too big.

When I had that surgery, though, I didn't realize that one day I really would have the chance to have a baby, and that it would become very, very important to me to breastfeed that baby. I don't regret the surgery, but I had a lot of concerns that I wouldn't be able to provide my daughter with breast milk.

That came true with Right, which has so much scar tissue now inside that my baby could not latch at all, and I can barely express any milk from that side. But you, Left, have been a trooper. Together with some pharmaceutical help, we have provided Lucy with about half of the milk she has drunk in the past 6 months. We grew her strong and tall, with a nice big brain, and have made her very healthy. In fact, so far (knock on wood) she has not been sick once, and she was just a few months old through the winter cold and flu season. Without breast milk, I don't know if her immune system would have been so strong.

Tomorrow Lucy will be 6 months old, and I have weaned off the domperidone. I'm still producing milk, so I am going to keep pumping a few times a day for a little longer--maybe just a day or two--just to see what happens. I am wrapping up this part of my life, and I don't know if I will have another chance to provide a baby with milk. It's hard to say goodbye. But you've given me one of my first important lessons in parenting: that often, things don't go the way you want them to go, and although they might be very important to me, I have to find a way to make peace with it.

Now you are a little droopier than Right, and more painful most of the time. But you've accomplished something remarkable. Thank you for letting me provide something so important for my baby.