March 27, 2022 - Sunday

Well, tomorrow is the big day. I'm having my bariatric surgery at 7:10 a.m. I'm excited to see what direction this launches my health into and looking forward to the future very much. It has been a tough two weeks of liquid dieting with a lot of stress, anger, and frustration. It has been six months of anticipation, and appointments, and testing to get here. It has been five years of wondering what it would be like and if I could ever bring myself to do it. And here I am...about to do it! 

Self-acceptance is really tough. I've worked hard over the years to see my body and say, hey, it's fine with me. And I feel like I did achieve that for a while. I was okay with myself for a long time. Yeah, not the perfect size. No, not a model. But, still, just fine. After having Ollie though, my feelings towards myself took a negative turn again. My plantar fasciitis got worse, my energy level dropped, and I couldn't look in the mirror without being upset. I stopped being physically capable of doing some things I used to do (and enjoy) and found myself sitting on the sidelines while my family experienced an active life. And when my bloodwork got done, lots of little things were going wrong. Nothing big or scary, but the sum of all of the little things did add up enough to scare me. Once I really, truly decided to have this surgery though, all of the other incidental benefits came to the surface: I'll be able to wear my wedding ring again! I won't always feel like the biggest person in the room - so conspicuous. I won't have to be afraid that chairs will break under me. I won't need to turn sideways to walk through doorways. I won't accidentally bump into people when squeezing through smaller spaces. I will hopefully live long enough to be a grandma...maybe a great-grandma! It's hard to be more than 100 pounds overweight and not feel noticed...in a bad way. I do have lots of things that I'm excited for and definitely do have some goals to reach, but I feel good about not having an actual weight goal. We'll see if that changes, but that's where I am for now.

As for the actual surgery, I'm nervous. I'm nervous about being put under. There's the underlying fear that saying goodbye to my kids and parents tonight and Ben tomorrow will be the last goodbye I ever get to say. I'm afraid of experiencing terrible pain. I'm afraid that something will go wrong. I'm not freaking out, but I'm nervous. How could I not be? It's a big deal. A life-changing, cutting 90% of my stomach out of my body big deal. It will all be done tomorrow though, for better or worse. Hopefully it's for the better!