Finding My "True North"

As many of you who already know, my life has changed drastically over the last 18 months, and even more so in the past 6 weeks. November 7, 2011, my mother was brought by ambulance to the hospital where I work and spent 7 days here and then went home on hospice and passed the next night.  She passed away just after midnight on Tuesday night making it November 16th, 2011. Her funeral was Friday, November 18, 2011. Thank you to everyone who came and who supported my family and I during this difficult time.  I knew many people loved my mom but was unaware of what a difference she had made in other people's lives. She dedicated herself professionally and personally to many causes and devoted her life to serving others; her legacy will live on through the people she touched.  I told my sister that I feel like my mom left a piece of herself with everyone and in a strange way, a piece of her lives on in each person that surrounds us. I know it must sound crazy, but I feel like I have to snatch up every piece of my mom that I can and surround myself with people who she loved and who loved her. For me, the best thing I can do to honor my mother is to embrace this extended family that she created and try to keep it together.

Since losing my mom, I feel like the needle for my compass is off and I can't find my true north. I find myself mentally, emotionally, and physically going in circles and unable to find my way. I have made some strides personally, to put the pieces back together.  I know at this point, it's just gonna take time.

I've lost my RNY mojo

I feel like I am at a point of discouragement and its forcing me into a corner of depression.  For the last two weeks, everything I am supposed to be eating/drinking is dumping, even though its low fat and low sugar as recommended.  I also have an urgent, yet unfullfilled craving for a Caffeine Free Dr. Pepper. Everyone told me after their weight loss surgery that they "mourned" food.  I never really had that experience thus far in my journey.  I never had the kicking screaming fit in my kitchen floor screaming "what have I done?" that I was told to be prepared for either.  Maybe this emotional/physical rut I'm in is my own version of mourning, perhaps?

I have not really cooked since surgery. I haven't yet found my postop inspiration that everyone around me in my support group has experienced. They have had a whole new world opened up to them, with all of these new recipes, techniques, and things to try. I am a creature of habit and this whole thing has just thrown my little world for a loop. But I know that was the purpose of this whole journey, was to change the habit, disrupt the routine, and to make a permanent change that will be beneficial for my overall quality of life.  Its frustrating because my go-to meals when cooking are now no-no's; things that I cannot eat anymore and I don't want to tempt myself and cook something I know I either A) Can't have or B) Will make me sick.

I've arrived at my first weight "plateau".  I was losing a pound a day or so right after surgery and the last time I weighed in, it was 1 lb for a whole week.  I think that just sort of burst my enthusiastic bubble. I know I am not getting my proper protein intake and the last two weeks, no matter what I have put in my mouth, whether good or bad - I have dumped. I spoke to my bariatric surgeon about it almost two weeks ago and he thought it was some sort of "GI bug".  But, here I am, having been going through this for two weeks now and my body is still rejecting what I put into it.  I made the mistake of trying something fried to get the protein, and amazingly, my GI system handled the "bad" (fried) things easier than it has everything else. 

Currently, I am struggling to find balance in my life.  My energy is being drained from my body pooling all of its resources trying to heal from my postop infection and then I am working full-time on top of that.  I am trying to get my calorie intake, protein intake, fluid intake, and vitamin intake but its rather difficult when everything I put into my mouth uses the "express lane" and is out of there within 30 minutes.  It makes me wonder, is the little food I am intaking doing anything for me nutritionally? Does it even have a chance for me to benefit from it before it makes a quick exit?

I still have this horror and ultimate fear of my pouch stretching out and I know it will somewhat along the journey and can stretch for the first 2 years, but lately, I am noticing its taking a little bit more food (another bite) to get that 'satisfied' feeling. I know just 'one more bite' doesn't seem to be that big of a deal and really not that much, but when you look at it was taking 2 bites to satisfy me and now we're up to 3, sometimes even 4 -- thats a 50-100% increase; thats completely terrifying to me.  To even entertain the thought that I could be back where I started just scares me to death.  I do not - at any point - want to go backwards.  I know this is just a small hurdle and all I have to do is keep running and jump.  But somehow, its more scarey when its a forced leap of faith.