Monday, Monday all day long.

It has been one of those days, where nothing seemed to flow exactly right. I mean just turning this crazy laptop on took FOREVER. I had to completely reboot it, I had about 900 tabs open, so that was probably why. Anyways, back to my Monday. I had to have my littlest at the dr at 8:30 for his 2 yr checkup. So that meant my hubby had to take my other 2 to school. I have to admit our morning went pretty well. We all got out the door on time. That in itself is a miracle. I was early for Warren's appointment, and he happily sat in my lap while we waited to be taken back. Again...miracle. God must have been saving my energy by allowing all this to just fall into place, because I sure needed to be in a good mood to get through the next few hours.

So just to backup a tad to my last post about Warren. He was checked out by a neurologist who told us to be watching him for signs of Autism. His toe walking is a red flag and from his evaluation he seemed to think he was doing it because of an OCD or sensory thing. So we were told to just watch him closely and follow up with our pediatrician and get our little guy into Physical Therapy to help his heels find the floor. He is now doing OT and PT weekly. And I kind of thought this "wait and see" journey would be longer. I thought I had some time to just sit back and coast through this stage. Yeah he walks a little funny, he is a tad clumsy, but overall he seems pretty typical.

About a month or so ago I saw his right hand flap. It was in a moment of frustration. I wasn't doing what he wanted me to do and his little hand just flapped in my direction. I didn't really react. I just thought 'did that just happen?' 'that has to be a one time thing. I have never seen him do that before.' So I made a mental note to pay closer attention to his hand. I didn't see him do it again for a few days, but I saw him do it again. And again. And again. And again. Then I saw him do it with both hands when he got excited. I saw him rise on his toes and flap his hands and squeal "BIG TRUCK!" I felt that feeling in my gut...this isn't good. This is what we are supposed to be watching for. So I texted my friend and told her to watch him next time we got together and see if she saw him do it. Maybe I am imagining it. Maybe I am seeing something that isn't there, or something that all kids do. This could mean nothing. Calm down. Breathe. Nothing is definite from a few hand flaps. He was just upset or excited.

While filling out his papers for his checkup I had to circle 'No' on a few questions and write "Hand flapping and Toe Walking" under "Concerns". I glanced at the paper. Knowing the questions well. I have done this before. I know what they look for. I knew the ones I had to say 'No' to were ones that threw up a red flag. I smiled at my boy who was inspecting the exam table, that was a large Lion, he kept saying "Tiger!" and tracing the eyes. He is simply a beautiful little boy.

I knew how it sounded when the doctor walked in and asked how things were going. I blurted out that he has started flapping his hands. Blurted it out. I had held it in for a while. I hadn't really said it out loud. I rambled saying 'I know it can mean nothing, but he seems to be doing it more and more. And now it's both his hands. And look see how his right arm is bent and higher than his left? He has been holding it up higher too.' I am sure I sounded paranoid and crazy. Luckily, my kids have a wonderful pediatrician who is kind and never makes me feel like a psychopath. She said that hand flapping isn't typically 'normal', but that alone it doesn't mean anything. She then looked at him and said 'But in his case, we are already concerned about Autism. He is showing a few other concerning signs. Please don't get hung up on labels. Love him the way he is. Continue to do what you are doing. Keep him in therapy. You are doing everything you can right now. A diagnosis does not take away from him."  In that moment I sighed. Warren was trying to get me to open his diaper bag and find him a snack, and he flapped his hands at me when I didn't do it right away. And she said 'Oh I seen that.' We chatted about his speech and other developmental things. I bragged on how his vocabulary has seemed to explode. And how he can put 2 words together. I told her how smart he is, and how much he loves to look at books and hear a story and dance. How well he is doing at preschool. We talked about the possibility of future evaluations when he is older, and what that will mean.

And just like that the 'wait and see' season seemed to end. I feel like now we are just waiting to see what else develops. Will his speech continue to progress? I think it will. How will he do socially? Right now he is doing well. Will that change? I hope it doesn't. Will his hands flap more and more? They might. How will other people react to that? I hope they tell me that he is beautiful.

Plastic Surgery

I really meant to blog about this more often and do short little updates on my healing. But I just never took the time to do it. This past year has been amazing, but challenging. There were days that I did not want to deal with. There were emotions that at times felt too big to sort through. Despite all that, I survived! And I feel amazing on most days.

A year ago I had just started on my weight loss journey. And gaaah that sounds so cheesy, weight loss journey, give me a break! But really it honestly has been a journey, not just about losing weight, but about self acceptance and growth. It literally took me making the decision every day to keep going. And a lot of days the hard decision wasn't to get up and exercise, or stick to my food journal, it was the decision to face the hard things I had to sort through. The feelings of self worthlessness that I battled. My insecurities that threatened to tear down my entire world. It sounds a tad dramatic, doesn't it? In reality it isn't. I just saw an article today on my facebook feed about a new mom who took her life, as a result of Post Partum Depression. Your mental health is just as important, if not more important, as your physical health. And it took a complete overhaul of my mental state to get to where I am now. There are days that I still struggle with feeling like I am good enough, like I deserve to be loved. But I know that I am enough on most days.

I say all that to say I did feel better once I lost my weight. But I hated, no loathed, the body I was left with. The number on the scale looked better, I however, did not. My stomach was so stretched out and hung so low. The aftermath of carrying 3 babies and having 3 c-sections was very evident. My abdominal muscles were so far apart. I was left with severe diastasis recti, and a tummy that laid in my lap. It was depressing. I hated to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror when I got in and out of the shower. Every time that I had to lift my stomach to dry under it after a shower it felt like a chisel chipping away at my self worth. I tried so hard to love my new smaller sized body, but I hated it. My clothes fit better, I could wear a smaller size, but I wanted to cry when I was forced to look at my stomach. I would pick it up and squeeze it in my hands. I would shove it all in and imagine how my body would look if it was tight and firm. I would trace the stretch marks with my fingers, and tell myself how I earned them. But I hated them. I hated how deep they were and how my entire finger could fit the width of them. I read article after article about loving the body you have and being proud of the marks of child bearing. I was blessed to carry my babies, no matter what it did to my body, I am supposed to be happy and grateful. And I am grateful. I love what my body accomplished.

So, after much thought, I made an appointment with a plastic surgeon. I went back and forth on whether I would actually go to the appointment. I didn't know if I would ever go through with plastic surgery. But then I got the news that I needed a hysterectomy. It was like I was given an extra shove in making my decision. If I already had to have surgery, why not just do it. I discussed having it all done together with my doctor. I even asked the plastic surgeon about it. One plastic surgeon agreed, and the other did not. I ended up going with the surgeon who suggested I wait 6 weeks in between the hysterectomy and tummy tuck. And I am grateful that I waited. The hysterectomy was terrible. The tummy tuck was uncomfortable for about a week. I healed pretty well and I was back on the treadmill 2 weeks out. Not once have I regretted my decision to fix my stomach. I don't break down and cry when I see my stomach anymore. The first real shower after my surgery, I almost cried because I didn't have to lift anything to dry under it. My stomach was flat, there was no overhang. I cannot even put into words how that moment felt.

I am now 5 months out from my tummy tuck, and I feel like I have gotten my life back. I slowly built back up to lifting weights and doing cardio, and now I am trying yoga. If you would have told me a year ago that I would have a tummy tuck, I would have thought you were nuts. But here I am :)