I reclaimed my body on 1/3/12. I had weightloss surgery. I had a Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy.
A week prior to this date, I packed my car and drove myself and Savannah from NY to Georgia. 15 whole hours. Just me, myself and I. A few days later I took a flight from Georiga to California. I met my driver, who drove me across the border into Mexico. I had my surgery the next day. After surgery I was nauseaus and vomitted often. I also felt very soar as if I had done one million sit-ups. I met other American patients and got along with the hospital staff and later on the staff at the hotel I stayed at. Everyone I met was a pleasure; the doctor, whose credentials I checked and whom I spoke to before booking my surgery was every bit as wonderful as he sounded over the phone when I interviewed him.
I went alone. I am still getting grief about it. I know it’s crazy and I know it’s something that I would not want Savannah to know about until she’s much older…but…I just wanted to be alone and do this for ME.
For the last several years, my body has belonged to so many people…least of all me. I’ve shared my body with my precious daughters…I’ve lent it to my husband so that he can become a father and we could fulfill our wish of a living child. I’ve shared it with all the doctors and nurses and medical assistants that poked and prodded me while I was desperate to find out why Emi died or while I was fighting to keep Daniella alive and finally when I had my TAC surgery that lead us to Savannah.
To a degree, I have felt vialated. I remember after Emi was born a social worker came to my room to comfort me. She happened to walk in as they were cleaning me up after delivery and I just saw this look of horror on her face. I just looked at her and contemplated: woe is me if I can make her look this way – a social worker of all people. I can only imagine what that scened looked like to her. Blood everywhere. I’m in tears, my husband is in tears and there is our dream – our little baby girl…just delivered and laying painfully still between my legs.
With each pregnancy I put on 20lbs. That’s 60lbs in total. When you consider that before I gained the 60lbs, I wanted to lose about 40lbs…that meant that my goal was to lose 100lbs.
That’s when I knew I just had to do something about my weight. Something more than “eat right and excercise” because that has never worked for me longterm.
I’m so glad I took this bold step. I’m so glad I just went after it and that I did it ALONE and for ME. And, yes, I’m fully aware that in the long run this investment in myself will trickle down to all facets of my life…but it was an amazing experience to go it alone.
I’m also equally aware that this is so much more about weight, aesthetics…and even health. It’s is truly about reclaiming years and joy and more than a bit of who I used to be.
And you know what? I’m really fucking thrilled about it.