I decided I needed to write out what I was feeling through this whole entire journey, in hopes that maybe it will help someone, mostly me, but others as well.

Its crazy to think that Ive finally went and done the surgery. My dr's have been after me about my weight, and wanted to push for surgery since I was 21 (im 23 now). At that time I hadnt had my daughter yet, I hadnt been married all that long, and I just hadnt lived life. I thought that I would just magically muster up the will power and stamina to lose all my weight. Well that day never came. Fast forward 2 years later, and Im laying on a stretcher in an ambulance with chest pains, a tingely face, and blue toes. I was sitting at work on the phone with a customer (actually a polite one at that) and I had a sudden chest pain and my left arm went numb. I went to the ER, and it turns out it was nothing, or nothing they could identify, but it really got me thinking. When it happened again, I knew I needed help.

So what got me to my state of 297lbs? Was I eating my emotions? Was I compensating for something I was lacking with food? Did my parents make me fat? I don't think I will ever know the answer to that question, but I dont think it was any of those secnerios. I was 23, married for 3 years, and a mother to a wonderful baby girl. I had friends, I had a job, I wasnt depressed. I was just fat.

like i said before, i always thougth I would wake up magically one day and be able to help myself be thin. I bought gym memberships, but never went. I had offers to walk on my lunch breaks, but had other things to do. It seems like for every good intention I had, I had something to downplay it. I worked a desk job in an office that didnt have vending machines. surely that would help keep someone who doesnt move much slim, right? Wrong. I would make sure that I was stocked up with 'snacks' so that when I was hungry I didnt battle it out. I went out for lunches and dinners so I didnt have to cook for 1 (my husband was on deployments). Also most of my socialization was based around meals. If I met a new friend, it was always safe to go out for dinner, because everyone needs to eat. It was just easier to be fat, than to be thin in my mind.

Then in 2009 I got pregnant. I remember several times when I would call my mom sobbing because the dr would make some comment about my weight. "You're gonna have diabetes", "you're not gonna lose the weight after the baby", "you're gonna be bigger". These things hurt. And while I only gained 12lbs during my pregnancy, and delivered a healthly 6lb girl, I dont think I enjoyed my pregnancy as much as I could have. Instead of anticipating hearing my baby's heartbeat, I dreaded stepping on the scale. I would get a disapproving look if I gained 2lbs in a month. It was tough. Yes, it did make me more conscious of what I ate, but that feeling of dread and guilt wasn't worth it.

When I first went into the surgeons office, I knew I wanted the band. I had seen the effects of the bypass, and definatly did not want to deal with that. The sleeve was an option I would consider, but i didnt know much about it. The band seemed perfect. I had read up on it, talked to other patients about it, joined support groups about it, but nothing prepared me for when the surgeon said "you're just too big". I felt defeated. Their requirements for banded patients was a BMI of 50 or under, while I was sittin on 54, the verge of 55. They thought the sleeve would be a great option, the best one that they saw, but upon hearing my insurance they knew it wouldnt be covered. "we will submit it and appeal it, but be prepared for the gastric bypass instead".

This was not at all what I had anticipated. The process that I had come to terms with, and was looking forward to was slipping out of my hands. I couldn't/wouldn't do a bypass. It was too risky in my opinion. However, i trusted that my surgeon would fight for me, and said "Submit the paperwork"

As i waited for the paperwork to come back, I started my own diet. Portion control was what I needed to work on. My eyes were always bigger than my stomach, and I was a member of the clean your plate club. I hated left overs, and I hated throwing food away, so I ate as much as I could. I decided after that consult I would take better care to resolve this issue. I started making my own food (as I should have done anways) and measured out everything. I also started a food log. I wrote down nutritional info for everything that went into my mouth, and watched my calories.

While this was sometimes tedious, it did pay off. I was rejected for the sleeve, and had to go back to the dr to discuss the dreaded bypass. I had finally accepted it as an option, only because I knew I couldnt do this on my own. However, I had explained to my dr's and nurses's what I had been doing, and was really suprised with my weight loss. They asked if they recommended me loggin my foods (which they didnt) and said I was doing everything right for a band patient. It was that decision right there that showed my dr's that the band woudl work for me, because I was willing to work for it.

So now I sit here, 7 days post op, wondering where this new band will take me. Ive already lost 28lbs thanks to pre op diets and the band, and I anticipate more. I would be happy to see me at 200lbs, but why limit myself? I just hope that I have the willpower to make myself work out. i dont want to be one of those sob stories where people wonder why it doesnt work, when they dont follow the rules.

My husband goes on his final naval deployment in January. I hope by the time that he leaves me I will be down to 250 (14lbs in a month and a half) and by the time he returns in June I will be at that 200 mark.

Wish me luck readers (if you're out there). Im not always the strongest willed, but I want to do this, for my family, for my friends, and most importantly for me.