I'm never going to be a proud fat girl. It's safe to say that I'm never going to shop in Lane Bryant with pride. I'm never going to consider myself sexy at a size 24. People Magazine has a Size 22 Super Model on their cover this week. Good for her - she is beautiful and obviously comfortable in her skin as she is. There are women who own their size and love themselves and that is awesome. However I will never be me in my current body. In my dreams at night, I'm not heavy...I'm a healthy, slim, fit, muscular lady who runs as if her feet never touch the ground. That's the feeling I'm trying to capture and turn the dream into reality.
I have a second cousin who had her 'stomach stapled' twenty years ago or more. She is gorgeous - regardless of size - and an incredibly strong person. She is also the single person I knew who had bariatric surgery in my life for a very long time.
Then, because of the power of Facebook, I learned that someone I've known since they were born had also had gastric bypass - and again, she's always been gorgeous but since her surgery she's literally radiating happiness.
Megan Kuhlman. Her grandparents and my grandparents were best friends for 50 years - lived in the same neighborhood, kids went to school together, went to church together and sang in the choir together, went on trips together - they were tight. Megan is a younger than I am by less than 3 years. I literally have known her since she was born. Outgoing, FUN, intelligent, kind, honest, humorous, loyal - she's pretty special, to say the least. Megan truly followed her dreams and moved to LA after high school to pursue acting...and though it's not her sole source of income, she was cast in the role of Hildenburg in the film "The Hot Chick"...and I think it's safe to say that her weight/size at that time played a part in her landing that role. I'm super proud of her and I think it's frickin' awesome that she did it - moved across the country and is doing her thing and not allowing fear of failure to stop her...but when I learned about her decision to have a Roux-en-Y, I wanted to jump on a plane to talk to her about it. Because I knew she wouldn't hide a single aspect - she'd give it to me straight. She'd tell the good, the bad and the ugly. And when she posted photos of herself one year past surgery - holding her pre-surgery jeans and standing in one leg while holding the other - and the look on her face - my heart wanted to leap out of my chest with sheer joy for her and at the same time, I had a rush of intense jealousy. She did it...she, yet again, didn't allow fear to hold her back and just did it. And she made it through. And she's radiating beauty and happiness and contentment.
So I sent Mego a text as I was waiting for my first Nutritionist appointment. My inspiration. Letting her know that I'd made the decision - because of her.
And a flurry of texts followed - and I knew I was making the right decision. Because for all the horror stories you hear about Gastric Bypass, there are MORE successes. There are MORE people saying "my only regret is that I waited so long" and "best decision I ever made".
Now, after further discussions I've learned that Megan's journey was not easy. She, as she put it, won the 'side effects lottery' and ended up with several very icky things happening in her recovery - and DESPITE that, she STILL says she should have had the surgery sooner.
Megan is my inspiration. She has shown me that surgery is a personal decision but for those of us who need major help, it's a real option. As she told me, surgery helped her easily lose the weight so she could switch her focus on becoming healthy. "Getting out of your own way" as she put it. How interesting to seperate those two concepts, a our culture associates thin with healthy - they're one in the same. However for Gastric Bypass patients, this isn't necessarily the case. I'm so excited to feel like I'm winning in health. So incredibly excited.
-XO - Amy
Friday, May 29, 2015
Thursday, May 28, 2015
The Journey of a Thousand Miles....
That's the quote, right?
"The Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with the First Step"?
The backstory leading up to the 'first step' is a long one...but the abbreviated version goes something like this : I don't know what it feels like to love your body. I may have known once...but it was so long ago and I was so young that I cannot remember. I know this because by age 8, I was enrolled in my first diet program. My mom signed me up for "The Body Shop" at Methodist Hospital when I went from being the skinniest girl to the roundest student in the second grade from September to Christmas. Her intentions were good - it was coming from a good place - but the message my 8 year old brain received was "You're fat. You're not good. You must change".
"The Body Shop" was just the first of decades worth of diets/programs/promises-to-change. The Monday Morning Start was every single Monday for years upon years of my life. Yes, there have been successes. I've lost weight and felt great...but then gained more back and felt worthless...many times over. The true problem is that I have an actual relationship with food. I know my triggers; I eat when I'm lonely. I eat when I'm stressed. I eat when I feel out of control. Food is there, always by my side. Always ready to hang out. Constant companion.
I do have an amazing body. I know this because I have three beautiful boys who lived in it for 9 months each. All three then lived off my amazing body for months afterwards as I provided their food. That. Is. Amazing.
But when your second grader asks you to stop volunteering at school because he is embarrassed by your size, when you can no longer buy a stitch of clothing in a 'normal' store and even the Plus Sizes are feeling snug, or when you can't remember the last time your own husband touched you because you know he's disgusted by your 'softness'...things start to change.
Since the birth of my third son, something has slowly evolved within me. My body is now my own again. No one is relying on it or residing in it. And I still have a whole bunch of life to live. And my boys deserve a healthy mom. A mom who can keep up with them. So, on a date night one night after a couple glasses of wine, I asked my husband Phil how he would feel if I had gastric bypass. In my head, I'd already decided he was going to think it was a horrible idea - I was strong enough to lose the weight on my own - I just needed to exercise more and eat less. Surgery was for the weak. However, he did not say that at all. In fact, he just about blew me off my seat when he said "I think you should look into it". He'd seen my struggles. He'd seen my defeats. He met me at one of my all-time low weights in adulthood and seen what two pregnancies can do. Being a not-small person, he also identifies with the struggle. I had his support...110%...all the way.
Of course, I sat on that information for a while. Still holding out hope that the next wave of motivation would push me into size 6 jeans and a 180 degree turn around in lifestyle. But that didn't happen. So in September of 2014, I made an initial consultation with a Bariatric Surgeon (Dr. Drew). He explained the entire process - which wasn't going to be quick at 6 months minimum. And at the end of the appointment, he deemed me an 'ideal candidate' to continue the process. So I made the appointments. 6 months of dietitian consultations. 2 meetings with an exercise physiologist. Psychological testing. I've completed it all and I'm still the 'ideal candidate'. Insurance approved. Surgery is scheduled for June 22 at 7:30am.
I'm going to maintain this blog during my gastric bypass journey for myself because I know there are going to be really hard times ahead when I wonder what the hell I was thinking by going this route...but I am also going to want to celebrate how far I've come...and documenting the process will help me with both. Read what you want, comment what you want, but please know that the main audience for this is me. Your love, prayers, support is 100% appreciated. This is the path I chose for ME. Welcome to the journey...
XO - Amy
"The Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with the First Step"?
The backstory leading up to the 'first step' is a long one...but the abbreviated version goes something like this : I don't know what it feels like to love your body. I may have known once...but it was so long ago and I was so young that I cannot remember. I know this because by age 8, I was enrolled in my first diet program. My mom signed me up for "The Body Shop" at Methodist Hospital when I went from being the skinniest girl to the roundest student in the second grade from September to Christmas. Her intentions were good - it was coming from a good place - but the message my 8 year old brain received was "You're fat. You're not good. You must change".
"The Body Shop" was just the first of decades worth of diets/programs/promises-to-change. The Monday Morning Start was every single Monday for years upon years of my life. Yes, there have been successes. I've lost weight and felt great...but then gained more back and felt worthless...many times over. The true problem is that I have an actual relationship with food. I know my triggers; I eat when I'm lonely. I eat when I'm stressed. I eat when I feel out of control. Food is there, always by my side. Always ready to hang out. Constant companion.
I do have an amazing body. I know this because I have three beautiful boys who lived in it for 9 months each. All three then lived off my amazing body for months afterwards as I provided their food. That. Is. Amazing.
But when your second grader asks you to stop volunteering at school because he is embarrassed by your size, when you can no longer buy a stitch of clothing in a 'normal' store and even the Plus Sizes are feeling snug, or when you can't remember the last time your own husband touched you because you know he's disgusted by your 'softness'...things start to change.
Since the birth of my third son, something has slowly evolved within me. My body is now my own again. No one is relying on it or residing in it. And I still have a whole bunch of life to live. And my boys deserve a healthy mom. A mom who can keep up with them. So, on a date night one night after a couple glasses of wine, I asked my husband Phil how he would feel if I had gastric bypass. In my head, I'd already decided he was going to think it was a horrible idea - I was strong enough to lose the weight on my own - I just needed to exercise more and eat less. Surgery was for the weak. However, he did not say that at all. In fact, he just about blew me off my seat when he said "I think you should look into it". He'd seen my struggles. He'd seen my defeats. He met me at one of my all-time low weights in adulthood and seen what two pregnancies can do. Being a not-small person, he also identifies with the struggle. I had his support...110%...all the way.
Of course, I sat on that information for a while. Still holding out hope that the next wave of motivation would push me into size 6 jeans and a 180 degree turn around in lifestyle. But that didn't happen. So in September of 2014, I made an initial consultation with a Bariatric Surgeon (Dr. Drew). He explained the entire process - which wasn't going to be quick at 6 months minimum. And at the end of the appointment, he deemed me an 'ideal candidate' to continue the process. So I made the appointments. 6 months of dietitian consultations. 2 meetings with an exercise physiologist. Psychological testing. I've completed it all and I'm still the 'ideal candidate'. Insurance approved. Surgery is scheduled for June 22 at 7:30am.
I'm going to maintain this blog during my gastric bypass journey for myself because I know there are going to be really hard times ahead when I wonder what the hell I was thinking by going this route...but I am also going to want to celebrate how far I've come...and documenting the process will help me with both. Read what you want, comment what you want, but please know that the main audience for this is me. Your love, prayers, support is 100% appreciated. This is the path I chose for ME. Welcome to the journey...
XO - Amy
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