June 16, 2016
I woke up this morning feeling very nervous and anxious. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I always get very loose stools the morning of an exciting event; the morning of my wedding, the first day of school, hours before a job interview, etc. – and this morning proved to be no different. All I kept thinking was, I hope the surgeons can’t smell my fear. So to avoid smelling rank, I made sure to wash my behind with the required antibacterial soap after every one of my morning episodes. Unfortunately, I think I left myself a little raw and irritated with all the nervous scrubbing I did.
But by 7:30 A.M. my morning episodes had finally came to a halt and my mom and babysitter had arrived. Upon their arrival, it was time to pack up the car and say goodbye to my early morning risers – Ashley & Aubrey. I told them that mommy’s doctor was going to fix her tummy and boobies and that Debbie (their nanny) and Gigi & Babalou (my husband’s Mom & her husband) were going to come play with them for a few days while I recovered at my Grammy & Papa’s house (my parents). Needless to say, Ashley & Aubrey were super excited; not because mommy was finally getting her tummy & boobies fixed, but because their nanny and grandparents were coming to visit for a few days. Mommy always seems to be second fiddle.
Well, thank goodness my Mom and I decided to leave an hour and a half early because the morning traffic was intense. What should have been a 30 minute car ride turned into a 75 minute-red-tail-light-party on Interstate 4. But we did make it on time – and with time to spare.
As I entered my doctor’s empty office, everyone greeted me the same way: “So are you ready Miss Kelly? It’s your big day!” With all the attention, nerves and jitters, I swear it felt like it was my wedding day again.
Within minutes, the surgical nurse brought me into the room and told me to undress into a gown and take a pregnancy test. As expected, my pregnancy test was negative. Next, the anesthesiologist came into the room to have me sign a bunch of I-wont-sue-you-legal-papers. While signing the papers, I told the anesthesiologist about my severe nausea and low blood pressure issues that anesthesia usually causes for me, and he quickly eased my fears. He said he was going to create the perfect anti-nausea cocktail for me, and that my low blood pressure shouldn’t be an issue. Once I had all my questions answered, my surgeon came into the room to draw on me. I wanted to take a picture of the Picasso he had drawn on my torso, but my doctor didn’t allow it. I’m sure there is some logical/legal reason as to why I couldn’t take a picture of his drawings, but it was a little disappointing. Once the drawings were done it was time to say goodbye to my Mom and step into the operating room. But not before we took a final before picture (left). It was the moment of truth. It was now or never.
As I lay down on the operating table, the surgical nurses started strapping down my arms and legs and sticking heart-rate and oxygen monitors on my chest and back. The anesthesiologist was standing at the head of the operating table behind my head, and out of the corner of my eye I could see he was about to inject something into my IV. I immediately said: “Wait, wait! I’m not ready yet!” But it was too late. This was the last thing I remember.
This is one of the many reasons why I chose to start this blog. When does faking-it ever serve anyone? To go around flaunting your new stunning body as if you worked to achieve those results just makes the rest of us feel more self-conscious then we already do. Now, that’s not to say you didn’t work hard with proper exercise, a healthy diet, etc.; but for those of us who do all these things – and more – and still achieved zero results, is disheartening and frustrating to say the least. I’ve tried everything I can think of to whip my body back into shape. I’ve done 4 straight months of eating right and exercising. My exercise routine consists of Insanity, P90X, and running 3 miles in the evening. Unfortunately, there isn’t any exercise in the world that can fix the issues that my two pregnancies have caused. I am so unhappy with my aftermath of my two pregnancies – at times I wont even let my husband touch me because I turn myself off. I NEED this surgery. I NEED to feel sexy again.
