Tuesday, August 28, 2018
Day 6 post-op
I'm feeling a lot better than I did a couple days ago and hit a couple milestones over the last two days: I pooped, and I now weigh under 300 lbs. Both of those are cause for celebration in my book because they were both highly anticipated events. Watch the video below for more details.
Sunday, August 26, 2018
Day 4
So, I had my surgery (a loop duodenal switch or SADI-S) on August 22, 2018 at 7:30 am. The day before, we went to the gym where I set a personal best of walking 30 minutes straight at a 20 minute mile pace. That doesn't sound very good, but it was huge progress from where I started. I also did some weight machines since I knew I wouldn't be doing any of that for at least a month. My "cleanse" went well and I got a good night's rest before heading to the hospital just before 5 am. I felt light and high-spirited bounding up stairs at the hospital.
The surgery was completed as expected and I was up and walking within a few hours. I progressed well and was able to go home around noon the next day. I appears everything went as well as could be expected, praise God! Even though everything went well, it's still hard. I'm in a lot of pain and struggling to get all my fluids in, but I'm still glad I did it and grateful to everyone who made it possible.
From now on, I'll try to post videos to give you updates on the process. Please remember that this is my first time doing this, and I'm on drugs, so be gentle. 😌
The surgery was completed as expected and I was up and walking within a few hours. I progressed well and was able to go home around noon the next day. I appears everything went as well as could be expected, praise God! Even though everything went well, it's still hard. I'm in a lot of pain and struggling to get all my fluids in, but I'm still glad I did it and grateful to everyone who made it possible.
From now on, I'll try to post videos to give you updates on the process. Please remember that this is my first time doing this, and I'm on drugs, so be gentle. 😌
Tuesday, August 21, 2018
Having eyes to Seay
When a book is made into a movie, why do people usually prefer the book? Because a movie tells a story the way a director sees it, but a book allows each person's mind to conjure up any image that is unique to how the reader sees. The more vivid your imagination, the more a movie can seem a bit flat. My last post hinted at trouble in paradise. Maybe your imagination ran wild with possibilities. That's what mine did while I was going through it.
Remember that Enneagram thing I mentioned in a previous post? The Enneagram is a tool to help understand how we see the world and to better understand how others see it. There are nine different types each with a myriad of possible subtypes, but today we are going to focus on Eights and Fives. Why? Because Eights are the best number on the Enneagram and I happen to be an Eight. The worst number has to be a Five. Ok, not the worst, but definitely one of the hardest numbers to be with in a close relationship (BTW, no number is better than another and it is so Eight of me to pretend otherwise). Steve is a Five. What does this mean? We both perceive the world very differently. Here's a brief summary of each taken from the book, The Path Between Us, by Suzanne Stabile:
For the past few years I have had two marriages. The one that was being acted out in front of me and the one that lived in my mind. I was dissatisfied with my life and cast that interpretation onto Steve. He wasn't communicating anything different, so I figured I was right and went down the mental path of him leaving me at some point, probably when Wrigley was grown and gone. This caused me to see our marriage as very fragile, so if a problem arose, I tried to minimize its impact on Steve. I wouldn't tell him things that bothered me and slowly started closing off more and more doors in preparation for the storm brewing in my head. At the same time, he had no idea any of this was going on in my head because on the surface, everything seemed ok. The silence continued because from his perspective, if there was a problem, I'd be making him aware of it. I created a narrative in my head for his thoughts and feelings based on the lack of communication I was getting from him because if he had feelings, he'd be making me aware of it. Right?
Wrong. After my EMDR therapy, a lot of stuff came up that revealed issues in our marriage that we needed help resolving. My sweet friend who helped with therapy for me, connected us with an amazing marriage counsellor who has seen us for almost a year pro bono. It has been sooooo good for us! There is a big difference between going to counseling to check a box saying you tried before getting a divorce, and going before huge problems occur with an effort to truly improve the marriage. It gave Steve a safe space to talk and the counsellors poignant questions helped me hear what he was really saying. During this time, Steve wrote me a song explaining how he felt about me and I got to share my fears with him. Some really beautiful revelations came out of this time and showed me that we are each strong people and we are even stronger together. I needed to let my faith be bigger than my fear because he wasn't going anywhere and didn't even want to. What a burden lifted!
For almost our entire marriage, I felt grateful to Steve because I didn't see anything valuable in me (another Enneagram lesson here, Fives are so carefully guarded that they only enter into relationships with people they deem very special and valuable. It is a huge honor to be the person a Five has chosen to be their partner). Combine that with feeling like a burden in general and I was just waiting for him to realize how much better he could do. When I started to feel better about myself I was getting more resentful of his weaknesses. Counseling gave me an outlet to express this without fear of him being destroyed and leaving. He felt safe to unleash twenty year frustrations out on me. We finally had it out and realized (thanks to the Enneagram) how different we are and how wonderful that can be.
After my gallbladder surgery the counsellor asked how we both felt about the outcome. We were both scared I wouldn't come out of the surgery alive. I was terrified to go under anesthesia for the first time. He had a moment of panic when my surgery lasted almost three times as long as it should have. It was hard. She asked me what it felt like for Steve to be there taking care of me. My lame answer was that he did what I expected. It wasn't anything miraculous that he was with me at the hospital and helped me. He's my husband. Where else would he be with his wife having surgery? If you love someone, you're there for them. That's the key. I thought I didn't trust his love for me, but when things got hard, he came through, and I expected him to. The thought never occurred to me that he wouldn't be there every step of the way because I knew how much he loved me. And even with his need for independence and to never rely on anyone, he knew he needed me to wake up because he needed me. At the end of the day, I just wanted to be needed and loved. I always was. Nothing had changed except my perception.
We can't always change our circumstance, but we can always change how we see it. We all see the world differently which means there are many ways to see it. If you are dissatisfied with your life, take steps to change it. If that doesn't work, maybe you're looking at it through the wrong lens. Ask God to give you eyes to see yourself and others the way he does. Man's vision is distorted, but we can always trust His.
Tomorrow is my surgery. I'm about 98% excited and 2% nervous. I still have more to tell about this journey, but I also want to include more real-time posts because this blog is mostly about the weight loss surgery experience. This story is almost done, and the ending blows me away. I am awestruck by the way God has used this surgery to bind up all my life-long struggles and set me free.
But that's another story, for another post. 😉
Remember that Enneagram thing I mentioned in a previous post? The Enneagram is a tool to help understand how we see the world and to better understand how others see it. There are nine different types each with a myriad of possible subtypes, but today we are going to focus on Eights and Fives. Why? Because Eights are the best number on the Enneagram and I happen to be an Eight. The worst number has to be a Five. Ok, not the worst, but definitely one of the hardest numbers to be with in a close relationship (BTW, no number is better than another and it is so Eight of me to pretend otherwise). Steve is a Five. What does this mean? We both perceive the world very differently. Here's a brief summary of each taken from the book, The Path Between Us, by Suzanne Stabile:
EightsThey are called the Boss or Challenger. They are independent thinkers who tend to see everything in extremes: good or bad, right or wrong, friend or foe. Anger is their emotion of choice, but it doesn't last long. While Eights don't invite forthrightness, they want and respect it. Their focus is outside of themselves and they are always for the underdog. Eights are passionate! They have more energy than any number, giving everything they have to what they are doing or what they believe in, and engaging most with people who are willing to go all out.
FivesThey are called Observers or Investigators. Fives want adequate resources so they never have to depend on someone else. They are the most emotionally detached of all the numbers. This kind of detachment means that they can have a feeling and let it go. They manage fear by gathering information and knowledge. Fives have a limited, measured amount of energy for every day so they are careful about what they offer to others and when. It is extremely brave of them to show up for relationships because it costs them more than any other number.See any potential problems there? Ha! The biggest challenge is that an Eight is very forthright with how they see things and expects the same in others (even though no other number operates that way) while a Five is very private and keeps most thoughts and feelings to themselves, especially if challenged. So...what does all of this have to do with anything?
For the past few years I have had two marriages. The one that was being acted out in front of me and the one that lived in my mind. I was dissatisfied with my life and cast that interpretation onto Steve. He wasn't communicating anything different, so I figured I was right and went down the mental path of him leaving me at some point, probably when Wrigley was grown and gone. This caused me to see our marriage as very fragile, so if a problem arose, I tried to minimize its impact on Steve. I wouldn't tell him things that bothered me and slowly started closing off more and more doors in preparation for the storm brewing in my head. At the same time, he had no idea any of this was going on in my head because on the surface, everything seemed ok. The silence continued because from his perspective, if there was a problem, I'd be making him aware of it. I created a narrative in my head for his thoughts and feelings based on the lack of communication I was getting from him because if he had feelings, he'd be making me aware of it. Right?
Wrong. After my EMDR therapy, a lot of stuff came up that revealed issues in our marriage that we needed help resolving. My sweet friend who helped with therapy for me, connected us with an amazing marriage counsellor who has seen us for almost a year pro bono. It has been sooooo good for us! There is a big difference between going to counseling to check a box saying you tried before getting a divorce, and going before huge problems occur with an effort to truly improve the marriage. It gave Steve a safe space to talk and the counsellors poignant questions helped me hear what he was really saying. During this time, Steve wrote me a song explaining how he felt about me and I got to share my fears with him. Some really beautiful revelations came out of this time and showed me that we are each strong people and we are even stronger together. I needed to let my faith be bigger than my fear because he wasn't going anywhere and didn't even want to. What a burden lifted!
For almost our entire marriage, I felt grateful to Steve because I didn't see anything valuable in me (another Enneagram lesson here, Fives are so carefully guarded that they only enter into relationships with people they deem very special and valuable. It is a huge honor to be the person a Five has chosen to be their partner). Combine that with feeling like a burden in general and I was just waiting for him to realize how much better he could do. When I started to feel better about myself I was getting more resentful of his weaknesses. Counseling gave me an outlet to express this without fear of him being destroyed and leaving. He felt safe to unleash twenty year frustrations out on me. We finally had it out and realized (thanks to the Enneagram) how different we are and how wonderful that can be.
After my gallbladder surgery the counsellor asked how we both felt about the outcome. We were both scared I wouldn't come out of the surgery alive. I was terrified to go under anesthesia for the first time. He had a moment of panic when my surgery lasted almost three times as long as it should have. It was hard. She asked me what it felt like for Steve to be there taking care of me. My lame answer was that he did what I expected. It wasn't anything miraculous that he was with me at the hospital and helped me. He's my husband. Where else would he be with his wife having surgery? If you love someone, you're there for them. That's the key. I thought I didn't trust his love for me, but when things got hard, he came through, and I expected him to. The thought never occurred to me that he wouldn't be there every step of the way because I knew how much he loved me. And even with his need for independence and to never rely on anyone, he knew he needed me to wake up because he needed me. At the end of the day, I just wanted to be needed and loved. I always was. Nothing had changed except my perception.
We can't always change our circumstance, but we can always change how we see it. We all see the world differently which means there are many ways to see it. If you are dissatisfied with your life, take steps to change it. If that doesn't work, maybe you're looking at it through the wrong lens. Ask God to give you eyes to see yourself and others the way he does. Man's vision is distorted, but we can always trust His.
Tomorrow is my surgery. I'm about 98% excited and 2% nervous. I still have more to tell about this journey, but I also want to include more real-time posts because this blog is mostly about the weight loss surgery experience. This story is almost done, and the ending blows me away. I am awestruck by the way God has used this surgery to bind up all my life-long struggles and set me free.
But that's another story, for another post. 😉
Monday, August 13, 2018
Whole180
Warning: At times this post will feel like an infomercial for Whole30. It isn’t, but it is a vital piece of my story, so I’m going to talk about it ad nausum. Maybe we should have a safe word, like pineapple. When I wander off on a Whole30 sound bite and I come back to what you are (hopefully) more interested in reading, I’ll start a new paragraph and preface it with “Pineapple.” Sound good?
So, foster care showed me I wasn’t a quitter, but I still struggled with having any willpower. I want to go into a high school graduation speech and talk about how the Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines willpower as blah, blah, blah.....but I think we all know what willpower looks like and envy those who have an abundance of it. I suck at delayed gratification. I know what I want, and I want it as soon as possible. I don’t play the long game. I find a direct route to my goal and make a beeline for it. Well, under-forty-Shannon did that. The improved-wiser-Shannon understands that success is measured by one’s ability to delay gratification (Side note, is there anything more doucey than when someone starts referring to themselves in the third person. I’m so sorry. Not sorry enough to delete it, but I am a little sorry). This is something I’m trying to teach Wrigley and myself at the same time. I have replaced what I once viewed as willpower with delayed gratification. I understand it’s importance and I practice it everyday in being a Christian. Doing the right thing is hard, but it’s worth it in the long run. Now let’s apply that to food.
I remember a time when I just ate what I wanted, when I wanted, without a care in the world. It felt good in the moment and I would joke about people who were eating healthy saying things like they should just shut up, eat their salad and be sad. It was a simpler time filled with homemade baked goods and never-ending chips with queso. I told myself I was happy not worrying about my food choices. I even fanaticized about opening up a restaurant that caters to fat people and call it “Fat Dumb and Happy’s.” Well, when I was confronted with the idolatry of my relationship with food, I had to be more deliberate in my eating habits. I can’t claim to serve God if my life reflects my service to fast food restaurants. I didn’t live like the people you see on My 600 lb Life. My eating habits weren’t shocking and I’m fairly active, but there is something wrong with how my body processes food and I need to be more careful than most. I just haven’t wanted to do anything about it because it was easier to ignore it and as I said earlier, I didn’t really plan on living very long, so why not enjoy the time I have.
For the past few years I had had a front row seat to my best friend’s dramatic weight loss. I saw her eat weird and I did my best to support her efforts. I admired what she did, but knew I didn’t want to live that way. I didn’t want to spend so much energy thinking about my food. I just wanted to live and not trade my love-of-food idol in for another one. It didn’t seem like a life I could (or want to) sustain. Then she went off the deep end. She decided she was going to do the most hardcore diet I have ever seen, Whole30. This is the diet I see people do who don’t need to diet because they are already fielding offers to do fitness magazine covers. She hit her goal weight, ran a half marathon and now she was going to do this. Why?
If you are unfamiliar with Whole30, here is a synopsis of it. It’s an elimination diet that resets your body and helps restore its proper function. For 30 days you eliminate potentially problematic food then gradually reintroduce them to see how foods affects you. It can help you lose weight, have more energy, sleep better and eliminate pain just to name a few benefits. I copied that verbatim from my Whole30 Day by Day journal where I was supposed to write an “elevator pitch” explaining what the Whole30 is. Here are the rules:
As the author says, “Cancer is hard. This is not hard.” She lies. If you have a food addiction, this extremely hard. I see people all over the internet saying they are rocking their Whole30 by eating their compliant pancakes. There is no such thing as compliant pancakes. You violated rule number 8!
Pineapple! (See, I followed through) So, my friend is going to do this plan and make us all look even worse than we already do. She talked about it ALL THE TIME. I thought it sounded completely crazy and wondered why anyone would even want to attempt this. Well, in March 2017, Steve and I decided to do it. I don’t even remember why. I knew I wanted to get healthier and I knew if I wanted drastic results, I was going to need to do something drastic. To truly follow this plan is tough. To do it on your first try without any slips is hard. To do it with a new baby and a difficult pre-teen is harder. To do it when you’re morbidly obese most of your life is near impossible.
Well, call me a unicorn, because I DID IT! I even enjoyed it most of the time. It was fun (and still is) to talk to my friend about weird food stuff together and get excited about finding bacon without sugar in it. I felt great! The constant joint pain I felt went away. I was sleeping through the night. It helped me view food as fuel instead of entertainment. So sorry, I slipped back infomercial mode.
Pineapple! I felt like a freaking rockstar because I successfully completed my first diet ever and it was one that healthy people struggle to do. It taught me such an important thing about myself. I can do hard things. I don’t give up because it’s hard, I dig deeper. I have the power of the Holy Spirit living in me and I’ve been promised that I can do anything that is right with God through the strength of Jesus. For almost my entire life food has held this power over me and made me believe I was helpless against it. That sounds so stupid to be under the spell of an inanimate object, but that’s how it felt. Whole30 broke that spell and gave me confidence like I’ve never had. I felt like a badass. Like the way you felt after watching the latest Wonder Woman movie. It caused me to do a total 180 on the way I viewed food and health and I was ready to make permanent lifestyle changes because for the first time in my life, I believed I could.
Then Little Red died. You know that story from the last post, but what I left out was how all my good eating habits went out the window. It started slowly with eating all the delicious carb overloaded meals well-meaning friends and family brought us. It continued to decline as I started eating fast food at least once a day until I hit my all-time highest weight of around 370 lbs. The physical pain was amplified because of how good I had felt months prior. I was in a bad place physically and mentally. I was extremely dissatisfied with my life and couldn’t imagine my husband was content with me or our marriage. He never said anything negatively to me about it, but how could he not be disappointed with the woman he was stuck with for the rest of his life? I imagined him hitting a breaking point and just leaving one day.
But that’s another story, for another post.
So, foster care showed me I wasn’t a quitter, but I still struggled with having any willpower. I want to go into a high school graduation speech and talk about how the Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines willpower as blah, blah, blah.....but I think we all know what willpower looks like and envy those who have an abundance of it. I suck at delayed gratification. I know what I want, and I want it as soon as possible. I don’t play the long game. I find a direct route to my goal and make a beeline for it. Well, under-forty-Shannon did that. The improved-wiser-Shannon understands that success is measured by one’s ability to delay gratification (Side note, is there anything more doucey than when someone starts referring to themselves in the third person. I’m so sorry. Not sorry enough to delete it, but I am a little sorry). This is something I’m trying to teach Wrigley and myself at the same time. I have replaced what I once viewed as willpower with delayed gratification. I understand it’s importance and I practice it everyday in being a Christian. Doing the right thing is hard, but it’s worth it in the long run. Now let’s apply that to food.
I remember a time when I just ate what I wanted, when I wanted, without a care in the world. It felt good in the moment and I would joke about people who were eating healthy saying things like they should just shut up, eat their salad and be sad. It was a simpler time filled with homemade baked goods and never-ending chips with queso. I told myself I was happy not worrying about my food choices. I even fanaticized about opening up a restaurant that caters to fat people and call it “Fat Dumb and Happy’s.” Well, when I was confronted with the idolatry of my relationship with food, I had to be more deliberate in my eating habits. I can’t claim to serve God if my life reflects my service to fast food restaurants. I didn’t live like the people you see on My 600 lb Life. My eating habits weren’t shocking and I’m fairly active, but there is something wrong with how my body processes food and I need to be more careful than most. I just haven’t wanted to do anything about it because it was easier to ignore it and as I said earlier, I didn’t really plan on living very long, so why not enjoy the time I have.
For the past few years I had had a front row seat to my best friend’s dramatic weight loss. I saw her eat weird and I did my best to support her efforts. I admired what she did, but knew I didn’t want to live that way. I didn’t want to spend so much energy thinking about my food. I just wanted to live and not trade my love-of-food idol in for another one. It didn’t seem like a life I could (or want to) sustain. Then she went off the deep end. She decided she was going to do the most hardcore diet I have ever seen, Whole30. This is the diet I see people do who don’t need to diet because they are already fielding offers to do fitness magazine covers. She hit her goal weight, ran a half marathon and now she was going to do this. Why?
If you are unfamiliar with Whole30, here is a synopsis of it. It’s an elimination diet that resets your body and helps restore its proper function. For 30 days you eliminate potentially problematic food then gradually reintroduce them to see how foods affects you. It can help you lose weight, have more energy, sleep better and eliminate pain just to name a few benefits. I copied that verbatim from my Whole30 Day by Day journal where I was supposed to write an “elevator pitch” explaining what the Whole30 is. Here are the rules:
- Eat real foods that are whole and unprocessed
- Do not eat any sweeteners of any kind
- No alcohol in any form, even in cooking
- No grains, including corn, of any kind
- No legumes including beans, peanuts or soy
- No dairy regardless of the animal it comes from
- No additives like carrageenan, MSG, or sulfites
- No baked goods, junk foods, or treats made with approved ingredients
- Don’t weigh yourself
- No slips, no cheats, no excuses (you have to start over if you even take a bite of off-limits food)
As the author says, “Cancer is hard. This is not hard.” She lies. If you have a food addiction, this extremely hard. I see people all over the internet saying they are rocking their Whole30 by eating their compliant pancakes. There is no such thing as compliant pancakes. You violated rule number 8!
Pineapple! (See, I followed through) So, my friend is going to do this plan and make us all look even worse than we already do. She talked about it ALL THE TIME. I thought it sounded completely crazy and wondered why anyone would even want to attempt this. Well, in March 2017, Steve and I decided to do it. I don’t even remember why. I knew I wanted to get healthier and I knew if I wanted drastic results, I was going to need to do something drastic. To truly follow this plan is tough. To do it on your first try without any slips is hard. To do it with a new baby and a difficult pre-teen is harder. To do it when you’re morbidly obese most of your life is near impossible.
Well, call me a unicorn, because I DID IT! I even enjoyed it most of the time. It was fun (and still is) to talk to my friend about weird food stuff together and get excited about finding bacon without sugar in it. I felt great! The constant joint pain I felt went away. I was sleeping through the night. It helped me view food as fuel instead of entertainment. So sorry, I slipped back infomercial mode.
Pineapple! I felt like a freaking rockstar because I successfully completed my first diet ever and it was one that healthy people struggle to do. It taught me such an important thing about myself. I can do hard things. I don’t give up because it’s hard, I dig deeper. I have the power of the Holy Spirit living in me and I’ve been promised that I can do anything that is right with God through the strength of Jesus. For almost my entire life food has held this power over me and made me believe I was helpless against it. That sounds so stupid to be under the spell of an inanimate object, but that’s how it felt. Whole30 broke that spell and gave me confidence like I’ve never had. I felt like a badass. Like the way you felt after watching the latest Wonder Woman movie. It caused me to do a total 180 on the way I viewed food and health and I was ready to make permanent lifestyle changes because for the first time in my life, I believed I could.
Then Little Red died. You know that story from the last post, but what I left out was how all my good eating habits went out the window. It started slowly with eating all the delicious carb overloaded meals well-meaning friends and family brought us. It continued to decline as I started eating fast food at least once a day until I hit my all-time highest weight of around 370 lbs. The physical pain was amplified because of how good I had felt months prior. I was in a bad place physically and mentally. I was extremely dissatisfied with my life and couldn’t imagine my husband was content with me or our marriage. He never said anything negatively to me about it, but how could he not be disappointed with the woman he was stuck with for the rest of his life? I imagined him hitting a breaking point and just leaving one day.
But that’s another story, for another post.
Saturday, August 11, 2018
From Quitter to Gladiator
Sorry for the delay in writing this post. It’s much easier to write in the middle of the night when the world’s asleep, but I’ve been sleeping through the night. I know....what a problem to have, right?! So, as promised, this post will attempt to explain how foster care fits into my weight loss journey.
In early 2015 I read a story about a six year old boy who was raped to death in Bella Vista (a town bordering us). I read terrible things going on in the world every day, but for some reason this one stuck with me. I became a little obsessed and read all the police reports and any articles I could find. I started day dreaming re-enactments of the events, but they were taking place in my early childhood home with my family. It was very disturbing. I asked God what I was supposed to do with this? Why did this case have such an impact on me? I immediately began thinking about the boy’s two sisters. Their parents were guilty of the crime and not only had these children witnessed (and been part of) all this abuse, but they now lost their entire family and everything familiar to them. How were they ever going to recover from this?
This scene kept playing over and over in my mind while I was driving and listening to the radio when an ad for a group called The CALL played. I started thinking about our capacity to raise more children. How given our experiences, we could make good parents to these kids who’d been ripped from their families. Through the loss of five of our babies, we have become good at attaching and loving a child quickly, and also letting them go. In my opinion, that’s the key to being a good foster parent. I felt like God was telling me he wanted us to do foster care and reminding me that we’ve been preparing for this journey for years, so I talked to Steve about it because I was sure he would tell me this is crazy and remind me of all the ridiculously hard things that go along with foster care. He would shoot the idea down, but I still got my points with Jesus for stepping out and asking. That’s how it works, right? Steve didn’t nix it. He said we should do it.
Fast forward nearly a year later and our home was opened to take placements. We ended up loving on seven children (I’m just now realizing that this a number used in the Bible to symbolize completeness....hmm....interesting). I still love those kids, think about them daily and pray protection and life over them. In this context, I want to focus on what two of our kiddos in particular taught me. I will use made up names for each of them to protect their identity, but if you know me, you know who I’m talking about.
The first child we’ll call Pete (bonus points for anyone who can guess how I came up with that name). He was a nine year old boy who was with us about eight months. He came to us full of energy, with no social boundaries, and an aversion to the truth. He is a smart kid who had never had any stability in his life or any adult pushing him to reach his potential. Until he met me. I believe if you love someone, you have a responsibility to help them be the best version of themselves possible. I did my best to help Pete with this. He didn’t appreciate it very much and we butted heads a lot. Many hours of homework were spent in tears and frustration by both of us. I told him I knew he could do it whether he did or not and I would not give up on him even if he gave up on himself. He tested that promise on a regular basis. It would have been easy for me to wash my hands of the situation, especially when I knew he would be leaving our home in a few months, but I didn’t. I love that boy and love doesn’t quit just because it’s hard. It steps up and loves harder. In those moments of frustration I realized that I don’t quit. I had always thought of myself as a quitter, but that wasn’t true. Even when I should, I don’t walk away from relationships. They may change, but people are important to me and if God has entrusted someone to my care, I will hang in there even to my detriment. Pete lives with his grandparents now, but we still get to see each other. He spent a week with us this summer and it warmed my heart to see how much he missed us and enjoys being with us. Wrigley looks at him as his brother and all his dreams would come true if we could adopt him.
The other child who played a pivotal role in this story we nicknamed “Little Red.” We brought her home from the hospital a week after she was born. She was a sweet, tiny baby girl who I love more than words can express. We had her for about three months before she died of SIDS on Mother’s Day 2017, on our watch. I have dealt with some hard stuff in my life, but this broke me. After a couple months I was still constantly reliving that night, trying to revive her. I started having panic attacks, sobbing spontaneously and I couldn’t stop, and felt out of control. It really scared me. I’ve dealt with depression in the past, but this was different. I didn’t know what to and shared with a few people what was going on before a friend who’s a therapist offered to see if she could help me through counseling. Money was tight (it’s always been tight) and there was no way we could afford for me to go to counseling, but she said she would take care of it.
This was the turning point in my story. If you’re still reading, you’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with weight loss. This is the point where I realized how I had been living my life in preparation for death and I was done with that. My friend started seeing me for a few weeks and after diagnosing me with PTSD, she treated me with a therapy called EMDR. It seemed stupid and I felt stupid doing it. How was feeling a couple controllers pulsate and saying affirmations going to fix the terror and panic I was feeling on a daily basis? Well, it did. Within a few weeks, the panic attacks stopped and I was feeling more like myself. I realized that I have lived my life feeling like a burden to everyone. This process brought up feelings of fear in my marriage and how dissatisfied with my life I was. I felt like my value in my relationships came from what I could do for other people and it was inconceivable that anyone could love me just for who I was.
This led down a whole path of self-discovery including the realization that I haven’t valued my life because I didn’t really care if I lived or died. Steve and Wrigley would be ok without me and I would get to be reunited with my babies. Sure they’d be sad, but they would also be free to find a new wife and mother who was able to sit at a booth and ride roller coasters.
Around this same time there was an event at church where some men who’ve devoted their lives to God and encourage others, came to deliver messages to us. No one told these men what was going on in any of our lives. They just joined us one evening and as we were singing, they would pray and ask God if he had a message for anyone. I know I’ve lost some of you at this point because this just sounds hokey. That’s ok. I thought it was hokey the first time I experienced it too, but this is powerful stuff! Most people did not have a message, but one of them had a message for me. He had written down what he heard from God as he was praying, pointed me out and read what he had written. Cue the tears. Here’s what the note said:
“Honorable Mother
In order to receive honor you have to have accomplished something. There was a trial that you conquered that is connected to the character of how you mother younger souls. Proverbs 31 is a picture of how people feel about what you accomplish.”
This came at a time when I was questioning if I was a doing any good as a foster mom, as Wrigley’s mom, or wife. I wasn’t suicidal, but I wondered if I really did bring any value to the world. According to God I did. I really recieved that message and let it take root in my heart. This changed my view of myself from being a burden that people tolerate, to me having value and purpose. My soul needed to hear that. I decided I was tired of existing and I wanted to live. Not just be alive, but to live in abundance of life. It wasn’t good enough for me to just survive anymore. I wanted people to look at me and see God radiating from me. That was not going to happen in my current package. How was I going to live in abundance if I couldn’t even walk a mile?
My insides were being transformed and I was finally ready to have the outside reflect who I really was because I really like that girl. I started connecting who I was in my head with my physical body and placing more value on seeing them as integral parts of me. I started learning more about my personality type through a study on the Ennegram (which will probably have it's own blog post soon, in the meantime, here's a good audio overview) realized that God created me to be a warrior. I am not a timid demure Christian woman and he doesn't want me to be. He made me to be a fierce gladiator for truth and justice. I am mentally ready to fight evil in this world, and now I'm preparing my body for the challenge.
But, that's another story for another post.
In early 2015 I read a story about a six year old boy who was raped to death in Bella Vista (a town bordering us). I read terrible things going on in the world every day, but for some reason this one stuck with me. I became a little obsessed and read all the police reports and any articles I could find. I started day dreaming re-enactments of the events, but they were taking place in my early childhood home with my family. It was very disturbing. I asked God what I was supposed to do with this? Why did this case have such an impact on me? I immediately began thinking about the boy’s two sisters. Their parents were guilty of the crime and not only had these children witnessed (and been part of) all this abuse, but they now lost their entire family and everything familiar to them. How were they ever going to recover from this?
This scene kept playing over and over in my mind while I was driving and listening to the radio when an ad for a group called The CALL played. I started thinking about our capacity to raise more children. How given our experiences, we could make good parents to these kids who’d been ripped from their families. Through the loss of five of our babies, we have become good at attaching and loving a child quickly, and also letting them go. In my opinion, that’s the key to being a good foster parent. I felt like God was telling me he wanted us to do foster care and reminding me that we’ve been preparing for this journey for years, so I talked to Steve about it because I was sure he would tell me this is crazy and remind me of all the ridiculously hard things that go along with foster care. He would shoot the idea down, but I still got my points with Jesus for stepping out and asking. That’s how it works, right? Steve didn’t nix it. He said we should do it.
Fast forward nearly a year later and our home was opened to take placements. We ended up loving on seven children (I’m just now realizing that this a number used in the Bible to symbolize completeness....hmm....interesting). I still love those kids, think about them daily and pray protection and life over them. In this context, I want to focus on what two of our kiddos in particular taught me. I will use made up names for each of them to protect their identity, but if you know me, you know who I’m talking about.
The first child we’ll call Pete (bonus points for anyone who can guess how I came up with that name). He was a nine year old boy who was with us about eight months. He came to us full of energy, with no social boundaries, and an aversion to the truth. He is a smart kid who had never had any stability in his life or any adult pushing him to reach his potential. Until he met me. I believe if you love someone, you have a responsibility to help them be the best version of themselves possible. I did my best to help Pete with this. He didn’t appreciate it very much and we butted heads a lot. Many hours of homework were spent in tears and frustration by both of us. I told him I knew he could do it whether he did or not and I would not give up on him even if he gave up on himself. He tested that promise on a regular basis. It would have been easy for me to wash my hands of the situation, especially when I knew he would be leaving our home in a few months, but I didn’t. I love that boy and love doesn’t quit just because it’s hard. It steps up and loves harder. In those moments of frustration I realized that I don’t quit. I had always thought of myself as a quitter, but that wasn’t true. Even when I should, I don’t walk away from relationships. They may change, but people are important to me and if God has entrusted someone to my care, I will hang in there even to my detriment. Pete lives with his grandparents now, but we still get to see each other. He spent a week with us this summer and it warmed my heart to see how much he missed us and enjoys being with us. Wrigley looks at him as his brother and all his dreams would come true if we could adopt him.
The other child who played a pivotal role in this story we nicknamed “Little Red.” We brought her home from the hospital a week after she was born. She was a sweet, tiny baby girl who I love more than words can express. We had her for about three months before she died of SIDS on Mother’s Day 2017, on our watch. I have dealt with some hard stuff in my life, but this broke me. After a couple months I was still constantly reliving that night, trying to revive her. I started having panic attacks, sobbing spontaneously and I couldn’t stop, and felt out of control. It really scared me. I’ve dealt with depression in the past, but this was different. I didn’t know what to and shared with a few people what was going on before a friend who’s a therapist offered to see if she could help me through counseling. Money was tight (it’s always been tight) and there was no way we could afford for me to go to counseling, but she said she would take care of it.
This was the turning point in my story. If you’re still reading, you’re probably wondering what any of this has to do with weight loss. This is the point where I realized how I had been living my life in preparation for death and I was done with that. My friend started seeing me for a few weeks and after diagnosing me with PTSD, she treated me with a therapy called EMDR. It seemed stupid and I felt stupid doing it. How was feeling a couple controllers pulsate and saying affirmations going to fix the terror and panic I was feeling on a daily basis? Well, it did. Within a few weeks, the panic attacks stopped and I was feeling more like myself. I realized that I have lived my life feeling like a burden to everyone. This process brought up feelings of fear in my marriage and how dissatisfied with my life I was. I felt like my value in my relationships came from what I could do for other people and it was inconceivable that anyone could love me just for who I was.
This led down a whole path of self-discovery including the realization that I haven’t valued my life because I didn’t really care if I lived or died. Steve and Wrigley would be ok without me and I would get to be reunited with my babies. Sure they’d be sad, but they would also be free to find a new wife and mother who was able to sit at a booth and ride roller coasters.
Around this same time there was an event at church where some men who’ve devoted their lives to God and encourage others, came to deliver messages to us. No one told these men what was going on in any of our lives. They just joined us one evening and as we were singing, they would pray and ask God if he had a message for anyone. I know I’ve lost some of you at this point because this just sounds hokey. That’s ok. I thought it was hokey the first time I experienced it too, but this is powerful stuff! Most people did not have a message, but one of them had a message for me. He had written down what he heard from God as he was praying, pointed me out and read what he had written. Cue the tears. Here’s what the note said:
“Honorable Mother
In order to receive honor you have to have accomplished something. There was a trial that you conquered that is connected to the character of how you mother younger souls. Proverbs 31 is a picture of how people feel about what you accomplish.”
This came at a time when I was questioning if I was a doing any good as a foster mom, as Wrigley’s mom, or wife. I wasn’t suicidal, but I wondered if I really did bring any value to the world. According to God I did. I really recieved that message and let it take root in my heart. This changed my view of myself from being a burden that people tolerate, to me having value and purpose. My soul needed to hear that. I decided I was tired of existing and I wanted to live. Not just be alive, but to live in abundance of life. It wasn’t good enough for me to just survive anymore. I wanted people to look at me and see God radiating from me. That was not going to happen in my current package. How was I going to live in abundance if I couldn’t even walk a mile?
My insides were being transformed and I was finally ready to have the outside reflect who I really was because I really like that girl. I started connecting who I was in my head with my physical body and placing more value on seeing them as integral parts of me. I started learning more about my personality type through a study on the Ennegram (which will probably have it's own blog post soon, in the meantime, here's a good audio overview) realized that God created me to be a warrior. I am not a timid demure Christian woman and he doesn't want me to be. He made me to be a fierce gladiator for truth and justice. I am mentally ready to fight evil in this world, and now I'm preparing my body for the challenge.
But, that's another story for another post.
Friday, August 3, 2018
A season of pure joy
I can think of three distinct times in my adult life where I felt complete and pure joy.
The joy I'm talking about is that long-lasting feeling of contentment, awe and wonder. That feeling that you are winning at life and in this moment, nothing can bring you down. I have been riding this high for almost a month now and it's been soooooo good for my soul! To understand this level of joy, you have to understand the pain and suffering that preceded it. I often say "without the bitter, the sweet isn't as sweet." There has been a lot of bitter over the last 40 years, but I'm just going to focus on the last few right now. In my mind, I see a timeline that looks like a treasure map consisting of stops along the way that got me to this point.
The first direct link appears to start in March 2014. My best friend was undergoing a tremendous weight loss and overhaul of her family's health (she is hardcore y'all...she lost over 100 pounds though no formal plan just common sense nutrition, exercise, and a lot of hard work) and she and I along with another friend began a Bible study based on Lysa TerKeurst's book, Made to Crave. It was so good, my mom and sister started reading it with us too. This study showed me how important my food issues were to God and how I had turned food into an idol. Once you hear that your relationship with food is a stumbling block to your relationship with God, you have to make some serious changes. I realized that I was so out of control that junk food held a higher priority in my heart than being fully alive for my son. By saying that I couldn't control myself with a bag of BBQ potato chips, I was sending the message that I loved those chips more than him. Wow. That cuts deep. I lost a little weight during that study, but mostly it made over my heart and it convicted me that I couldn't go along being content with being fat.
While the Made to Crave study helped change my way of thinking about food, it wasn't having any real power in my physical health. I realized that whenever I started a new diet or lifestyle change I would come up with a plan, then ask God to bless it. That plan never worked well. The only weight loss success I'd ever had was getting pregnant. I lost about 30 pounds with Wrigley because I was terrified I would kill him if I gained weight. So I decided to try something radical. I was going to seek God's wisdom first then implement his plan. On January 3rd, 2015 I spent 24 hours unplugged from the world and my regular life and spent the night in a friend's cabin devoting myself to prayer and fasting. Here's how I described the event in a facebook post:
There was so much God showed me during that 24 hours but the overwhelming message was: "I've got this. Just don't quit." This gave me great peace and hope, but was also a bit overwhelming because at this point I identified myself as a quitter. I try things, but if I'm not good at it, I stop and focus on something I am good at doing. Especially when it comes to food I felt powerless to resist it and that there was nothing I could do to change it. I also had no idea what this looked like to live out.
Tune in next time to hear about how God used foster care to change my perception of myself and move me one step closer to where I am today.
- Valentine's Day, 1998 when Steve sent me flowers and became my boyfriend
- November 21, 2009 when Wrigley was born alive and well
- July 2018 when for the first time in my life I feel like I finally caught a break
The joy I'm talking about is that long-lasting feeling of contentment, awe and wonder. That feeling that you are winning at life and in this moment, nothing can bring you down. I have been riding this high for almost a month now and it's been soooooo good for my soul! To understand this level of joy, you have to understand the pain and suffering that preceded it. I often say "without the bitter, the sweet isn't as sweet." There has been a lot of bitter over the last 40 years, but I'm just going to focus on the last few right now. In my mind, I see a timeline that looks like a treasure map consisting of stops along the way that got me to this point.
The first direct link appears to start in March 2014. My best friend was undergoing a tremendous weight loss and overhaul of her family's health (she is hardcore y'all...she lost over 100 pounds though no formal plan just common sense nutrition, exercise, and a lot of hard work) and she and I along with another friend began a Bible study based on Lysa TerKeurst's book, Made to Crave. It was so good, my mom and sister started reading it with us too. This study showed me how important my food issues were to God and how I had turned food into an idol. Once you hear that your relationship with food is a stumbling block to your relationship with God, you have to make some serious changes. I realized that I was so out of control that junk food held a higher priority in my heart than being fully alive for my son. By saying that I couldn't control myself with a bag of BBQ potato chips, I was sending the message that I loved those chips more than him. Wow. That cuts deep. I lost a little weight during that study, but mostly it made over my heart and it convicted me that I couldn't go along being content with being fat.
While the Made to Crave study helped change my way of thinking about food, it wasn't having any real power in my physical health. I realized that whenever I started a new diet or lifestyle change I would come up with a plan, then ask God to bless it. That plan never worked well. The only weight loss success I'd ever had was getting pregnant. I lost about 30 pounds with Wrigley because I was terrified I would kill him if I gained weight. So I decided to try something radical. I was going to seek God's wisdom first then implement his plan. On January 3rd, 2015 I spent 24 hours unplugged from the world and my regular life and spent the night in a friend's cabin devoting myself to prayer and fasting. Here's how I described the event in a facebook post:
"Beginning at noon, I will be unplugging from the world and spending a day alone in prayer and fasting to fully immerse myself in God's wisdom. I have had a lifelong struggle with my physical body. For the first time in my life, I am going to remove all my preconceived ideas and Earthy wisdom of what I think I need to do and fully submit myself to God and his direction."Scrolling through the comments today, I can even see foreshadowing of events to come. In the comments, my mom posted "...as you come out of your wilderness journey, do you have any truths to share..." and my dad commented "Most likely the answer you receive will be something like...'ask your dad what to do and then follow his advice.'"
There was so much God showed me during that 24 hours but the overwhelming message was: "I've got this. Just don't quit." This gave me great peace and hope, but was also a bit overwhelming because at this point I identified myself as a quitter. I try things, but if I'm not good at it, I stop and focus on something I am good at doing. Especially when it comes to food I felt powerless to resist it and that there was nothing I could do to change it. I also had no idea what this looked like to live out.
Tune in next time to hear about how God used foster care to change my perception of myself and move me one step closer to where I am today.
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