MNMommaBear
My story is similar to most here, I've struggled with my weight most of my life. Over the last 10 years though, things have really gotten out of hand. 10 years ago I met my now-husband. We lived in 2 towns 2 1/2 hours apart. We were constantly traveling to see each other and when we met we went out with friends for drinks and dinner. We were having a blast!
A year later I had a bad accident at work. I broke my leg quite seriously. I spent 3 weeks in the hospital while I had 2 surgeries to begin fixing the damage. I was very upset and depressed most of the time and was completely bedridden with all sorts of contraptions hooked up to me for 2 months.
Once all the hardware came off the work began. I had already started gaining weight, and now had to learn to do even the simplest tasks all over again to boot. I was not daunted. I was free! I was frustrated daily that I could not keep up and things were difficult, but I was so happy to be home with my boyfriend and just to be at home. It took quite a while but I adjusted to the new norm.
After being together 4 years I became pregnant with our first child. We were so excited! I did well right up until the last minute when I became very nervous and scared. OH MY GOD! I was about to become a mom! I have never seen anything so beautiful as my newborn daughter. She was perfect. I went home and struggled with a lot of emotional times, but looking back I'd give anything to have those first weeks back one more time, they were so special.
A year and a half later, I had baby fever again. We got pregnant much faster than I expected. I relished every moment. 9 months later I had the most beautiful little boy I could have dreamed of. He became sick in the hospital and when they discharged me without my son, I thought I'd die. I refused to leave. He came home soon after healthy and has been growing like a weed ever since. Since day one, he's been my mama's boy. Since the day he was born, he's been my snuggler, wanting constantly to be smooshed up against me whenever he sleeps. He still does.
A couple days before my first son turned 1 my husband and I got married. In the back of my mind, my wedding pictures made me sad, because they were not what I'd always dreamed of, a big fat bride.
Over the course of the past years since the original injury to my knee, I had 4 additional surgeries, a total of 8 in all over my life so far. My surgeon told me after the last one, "The good news is: this should get you mobile for a while, it should feel better now. The bad news is: there's nothing left to fix. The next surgery will be a total replacement." He informed me that I was way to young for this but there was no choice. I needed to take care of the knee I have for as long as possible and I needed to start by losing weight.
A couple years later I became pregnant with our 3rd and last child. I decided this was it for me, it was hard being pregnant, partly because I'm getting older, as far as having babies goes and also my weight had been going up steadily since the original knee injury 8 years before. It was the longest pregnancy ever. Everything went well, though. I knew that this baby was considerably bigger than the other 2 (9.2 and 9.11). But since this was another scheduled C section ( the 3rd) my doctor saw no reason to be worried about the size of the baby, I wouldn't have to push him out. According to my calculations, he was delivered a week before his actual due date, at 11 pounds 12 ounces. He was healthy and happy and huge. There had been no gestational diabetes or any other problems, just a big baby maker. He was so beautiful!
When I returned to work after my maternity leave, as children will, my students had tons of questions. They mostly wanted to know if I was still pregnant or if I was having another baby. How embarrassing. My own daughter has sworn for the last year everytime she gets a look at my belly that I'm having another baby. I know none of them meant anything, but it still hurt. A lot.
Sortly after returning to work, 5 months after the birth of my baby, I was diagnosed with a ventral hernia and had it repaired. I'm such a tough-guy. He told me it'd be painful. I said "Come on, how bad could it be? I've had 3 c-sections?" He said it'd be worse. I wouldn't believe him. Holy s**t was he telling the truth. That was perhaps the most painful thing I've endured. It took quite a while but I recovered. It is now back unfortunately and needs to be repaired again, but everyone agrees that it'd be to my benefit to wait until I lose my weight if I can, to have it repaired. So that's on hold.
I work with several people who have had gastric bypass surgery and I started talking seriously to them about it, conducting my own little interviews. I made up my mind about September of 07 that it was for me and I began to pursue the insurance requirements. By the end of the school year, I had fulfilled the requirements and was ready for approval.
When the letter of approval came in early summer, I was SO excited. Finally! I called to schedule my surgery, they could get me in in 2 weeks. Wow! So soon! It was all becoming real. I was very excited, but nervous at the same time. I really never felt on the fence about having it done until right on the way to the OR. I WAS SO SURE! I WAS SO SURE!
As I was being wheeled into the OR, I was terrified. The nurse was trying to reassure me and asked if there was anything wrong. I kept thinking, and finally shared with her..."Am I so desperate to lose weight that I would let someone cut my insides up?!" She told me everything would be ok and told me about several nurses she worked with who had had this done and they were all very happy. I was falling apart and she could tell. She had the anesthesiologist come in and give me something to calm me. That was my last thought as I drifted off.
I woke up in pain, but a lot less than I had expected. The hospital staff was wonderful, and after the first day, I was really suprised. I began commenting on how much more painless this was than I thought it would be and how much easier it was, as far as my hunger went, than I had expected. I really was feeling positive.
I had the surgery on Monday, July 7, 2008. I went home on Thursday. All was well, I was healing well, mentally and physically. On Monday, July 14, I woke up in an emotional uproar. I began crying and could not stop. I started thinking that I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I couldn't believe I had let someone carve up my insides just to lose weight. I kept thinking I had more or less ruined myself, killed my body, and there was no going back. My kids, what would I do? How had I gotten myself to this terrible place? I thought I was losing my mind!
The following day I had my 1 week appointment with my dr. She said she had seen this before but wasn't sure why it happened or what to do about it. I've read that after major surgery, it is common for people to become extremely emotional for some reason and that it does pass. I am hoping it will be soon.
It is day 3 of the tear-fest. I know rationally that I have done the best thing and all the things I've been thinking the last couple of days are really just irrational thoughts brought on by a crazy emotional state. I caution anyone considering this procedure to remember that this could be part of your experience. It is by far the most difficult part for me so far, everything else is going well. Please know this may happen to you and be prepared to deal with it. I did not. I'm sure as soon as this passes and the weight starts to disappear, everything will be great. I will look back on this and consider it just another part of the process I'm just beginning.
