how it started

Winter 2001/2002 I hit rock bottom.

Boy Child was almost 1 and I was almost 300 pounds. Three hundred pounds! That is a whole lotta Momma! Even on a large framed 5 foot 8 inch body.

What the hell happened to me? When I look back, I'm still not sure I have an answer for that. Years and years of therapy still haven't helped me get to the root of that problem. I do know this though; I go to food for comfort. Always.

I started getting desperate, looking for a way to lose weight without any effort because, well I'm lazy and knew I wasn't going to get any support whatsoever on the home front. Keep Momma fat and happy and she won't roam.

An acquaintance had just undergone gastric bypass surgery and was having an amazing recovery; weight was just disappearing off her body!
Perfect! I could do that. I asked her a few questions and then hit up the internet for more needed information. I was overwhelmed. This was my miracle!!
I educated myself top to bottom and printed off countless amounts of materials. I had my mind set; this was my only solution.
I knew I was going to keep gaining weight if I didn't do something. I was beyond unhappy. I was up all hours of the day with a baby I felt I couldn't satisfy and the only way I could feel any sense of satisfaction was food. I'd find myself waking up during times I could actually get sleep to eat. I was basically eating in my sleep. It was horrifying. I had lost all control.

I called the doctor's office for an appointment; I wanted a referral to this one particular Bariatric Surgeon who had the shortest waiting list because I wanted this like yesterday.
My doctor asked me question after question to which I had an answer for every single one. I had done my research and she knew it.

Boom! Appointments are made. I'm seeing dieticians, psychologists, and attending support group meetings to qualify myself for surgery. It was so fast and such a whirlwind before I knew it I had a surgery date. May 31, 2002.

The Mailman and I set things up for myself and Boy Child and we're ready. I eat everything in sight because I know there is no going back now; life will be changing.

Phone rings... a cancellation has happened and surgery is now May 22, which happens to be only 3 days away.
Panic sets in. I do all my pre-op prep which I will not go into great detail because it is truly horrifying. To this day if I hear the words "liquid Fleets" I can still remember what that taste was like and I instantly gag. It's not pretty. At all.

4am, Wednesday May 22, 2002 the day begins. Boy Child goes with The Mailman's mother and we hit the road for a 2 1/2 hour journey to the hospital. I'm nervous and sick. As part of my pre-op preparations I was not allowed to eat solids three days prior, only liquids two days prior and then nothing one day prior to surgery. I am pretty much vomiting the entire trip, which of course I don't have much to vomit, other than stomach bile. I'll never forget it.

We finally get to the hospital, registered, settled in and I'm IV'ed up. Now I'm happy. I have the loopy drugs and I'm showing everybody my purple toenails. I see the Dr. for pointless chit chat and next thing I know I'm being wheeled down the hall while a nurse is standing there waiting for me... I'm being hooked up, we're all talking and I'm giggling then she says....

"Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life."