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 :)
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