Wife’s love helps husband in his battle against obesity

By MARISSA MORGAN

When I first met my husband, Robert, 10 years ago, I was instantly drawn to him. We had a lot in common and I was able to talk to him about anything. He had a charm about him that I found hard to walk away from.

I liked the fact that he was confident without being cocky. He knew what he wanted to do with his life and I liked that. Most of the guys I had been friends with or dated were either in school or not sure what they wanted out of life.

Our first couple of years together were great. Robert and I laughed together, shared quality time, and, most of all, we never wanted to be away from each other.

We worked hard in those early years, but we also knew how to have fun and relax. We have a lot of the same interests, so there was rarely a dull moment as we explored museums, rocked out at concerts or just sat and enjoyed each other’s company at places like the Fort Worth Water Gardens.

The memories we have created in the past 10 years will never be forgotten, but there was that one special night that brings a smile to my face. I remember it as if it were yesterday — the night he asked me to marry him.

We had been exclusive for more than a year when we planned to go to a club in the Metroplex for our first New Year’s Eve together. An ice storm the previous year forced us to stay home and enjoy movies and each other’s company.

We left the house early enough to eat supper at one of my favorite restaurants — The Cheesecake Factory in Frisco. Robert had asked me if I wouldn’t mind driving and, at the time, I didn’t think much of it, so I agreed.

The restaurant appeared somewhat full when we arrived, so I offered to drop him off so he could get our name on the waiting list. He was doing more than finding us a secluded table.

Unknown to me, he was talking to the staff about his surprise proposal while I was parking. I had hoped he would pop the question one day, but what he was about to do caught me by complete surprise.

The food was good, and of course, dessert was the best ever. Robert asked if I’d like to share a dessert and I agreed.

We ordered my favorite indulgence — the chocolate raspberry torte — and when the waiter brought it to the table, I had to do a double take. The words “Will You Marry Me?” were written in chocolate drizzle on the plate around the torte.

It was gorgeous and Robert, hands shaking, presented me with a three-stone diamond ring. I said yes, we rang in the New Year as an engaged couple, and we were married the following April.

Married life was great. We enjoyed summer vacations to the beach and had our youngest son, Brad.

But life really started to change about three and a half years ago when I began to notice some subtle changes in Robert’s attitude. First it was little things — he would snap at me after a long day at work, or he would pick fights over the most petty issues.

I didn’t understand why he was acting the way he was, but I definitely didn’t like it.

At first I thought it was due in part to the fact that we had just had a son six months prior, and that the stresses of helping to care for an infant were consuming him.

Never once did his weight gain creep into my mind because, to me, he was just Robert.

I didn’t notice how heavy he was getting because I never made an issue out of his weight. I have always accepted him just as he is.

It seemed that with each passing day, though, his attitude was getting more and more unbearable. Trying to talk to him was out of the question.

Robert doesn’t easily put his feelings out there, while I am the complete opposite, so it was very hard for me to accept the person that Robert was becoming.

In turn, I became as depressed and unhappy as he was. I only confided in my best friend, Jessy, about the true extent of what was going on. I was afraid to mention anything to my parents or anyone else about the changes I was witnessing in my husband.

On the outside, everyone thought we had it all together. We would go out to eat with friends, visit family or spend our weekends at basketball tournaments.

What no one knew, though, was what we were going through on the inside. Robert was depressed, battled with low self-esteem issues and simply hated himself.

Because of that, I suffered as well.

Not only was I emotionally drained, but I was physically exhausted as well. For me, it was truly daunting trying to take care of our boys and the house while trying to boost the ego of a person who hated himself.

It was also painful putting on a brave face for everyone. How long could we keep up the facade? How long would this depression last? I prayed for understanding all the time and after what seemed like forever, I finally got my answer.

Things came to a head a year ago September when I confessed that I was unhappy. I had gotten the courage to speak to Robert and confront our problems head-on after several frank conversations with Jessy and another close friend.

Robert asked me what was causing my unhappiness.

I admitted that things hadn’t been the same between us for quite some time and that he was far from the person that I had married. I wanted to know why he was angry all the time and why we never did anything together anymore.

To this day, I can hear his answer as clear as when he first said it: “It’s really hard to love someone when you don’t even love yourself.”

It wasn't long afterwards when he broke down in front of me. He had gotten out of the shower and dressed and immediately sat down and started crying. I didn’t have a clue as to why he broke down, but it unnerved me.

Wiping away tears, he admitted to me that he could hardly handle life as an obese man any more. It was so hard on him that he could barely stand in the shower long enough to get clean. Getting out and drying off left him completely out of breath

It all became crystal clear.

In that instant, I realized just how hard things were for him. Everything made sense and I was able to understand the reason for his feelings.

All this time I thought it was my fault, when, in fact, he was struggling every day to find something to love about himself.

It didn’t matter to him how many times I said, “I love you” or how many times I went out of my way to try and make him feel good. He wasn’t going to believe it or feel good about himself until he changed what was making him depressed.

From that point on, we both tried to make conscious efforts to fix the problem. But the real turning point came in July as we were getting ready to take a vacation to California and Las Vegas.

In the weeks leading up to our trip, Robert continually agonized over boarding an airplane for the first time as an obese man. The media doesn’t exactly shy away from random reports on how large people are charged double for their seats. He was wider than the 16 inches of seat you get on a plane.

It was his greatest fear, being publicly humiliated like that.

The day we left DFW Airport, the caring airline staff allowed us to board the flight early so Robert wasn’t subjected to the stares and whispers of fellow passengers. He also needed a seatbelt extension.

It was excruciating for him.

While we had a great time in both California and Las Vegas, I couldn’t help feeling that he missed out on a lot of things during the trip. I did most of my sightseeing alone, and he missed a couple of incredible exhibits that I tried my best to eagerly explain when I got back to the hotel room.

A few days after we got home, he and my dad were talking about plans for a vacation this coming summer. During this conversation, my dad said, “If we don’t do something about your weight, Robert, I’m not sure you’ll even be around next summer.”

I know Robert was shocked, and I have to admit that I was, too. My dad is usually not that blunt with anyone, but I also know that it came from a good place.

By then, we were all concerned about Robert’s well-being as his weight surpassed 500 pounds. My mom and I had gotten to the point where we would admit our fears to each other about the possibility that he could collapse from a heart attack at any moment.

He is relatively calm, but like any coach, his blood pressure rises in heated basketball games. My dad was so concerned that we could lose Robert at any time, he helped us take a plunge and buy a life insurance policy for him.

Then Robert began seriously researching Lap-band surgery. I knew it had to be done, so I was more than willing to listen to every bit of information Robert was able to obtain. The more he researched it, the more optimistic we became.

We both called several different doctors for information but Dr. Curtis Mosier and his nurse, Judy Spira impressed us the most. We were treated like people rather than numbers or inconveniences.

After our first meeting with both of them, I knew we had found the perfect fit and I worried a little less about Robert’s future.

Right before Robert’s surgery, however, a lot went through my mind. What if it didn’t work? What would I do if he died on the table? I prayed a lot during that time and, the more I did, the more confident I became about everything.