When I began this journey I did it with gusto. I am the type of person that makes a decision, and it is done. I do not dwell on the decision. I accept the consequences as best I can and move on to the next decision. In August I decided I was finished being fat! I lost 50 lbs a few years ago. Then I got pregnant, put on bed rest my first trimester and the rest is history. I am now a 100 lbs overweight.

I am a pretty typical person. I teach high school. I am married with 2 sons (1 and 5) and 1 step daughter (13). I am 35 years old. I have fought my weight my whole life. Bones only, I will be lucky to be a size 9. I actually look sick at a size 12. My goal is to be a size 14. Isn't that weird? I want to be what most people believe is over weight. I am ok with that. I do not want to be a model. I just want to be healthy and I want to shop somewhere besides Lane Bryan and I want to look at something and not think about whether I will fit in it.

One of my favorite commercials is the one with lady walking down the street with a scale attached to her ankle. It was a weight loss commerical. (Go figure). I think that is the most PROFOUND commercial. I am that woman. Everyday I have weight on my mind. Everybite I take I decide where it is going to go. This bite will go to my hips, this one to my right breast, ect.

Sidenote: Have you ever wondered why you lose weight in your boobs first? I do. Then all my shirts fit my hips, but my clevage hangs out for the world to see. Solution: layer. I put a tank under my tops and poof. . .add an extra size on my hips. Who layers when you are size 22? I mean really?

Once I decided to have the sleeve surgery, I became very excited. They told me that my insurance paid, and all I had to do was pick a date. I went for my consulation. The doctor told me the three types of surgeries to choose from and suggested the sleeve surgery for me. I researched it and decided that this was it. All I had to do was pick a date. I decided that I wanted to do it the week before Thanksgiving. Then I would only have to take 4 days off, I could be skinny by New Years. . .win-win. Yeah, right. When does anything like that happen so easy? After my consultation, the nurse called to tell me that the insurance now said I had to wait 6 months before I could have my surgery. My husband also decided at this point to have medical issues that would take any extra money that we had.

As a good Catholic girl, I believe in signs. I decided that all the signs were pointing to me not having the surgery. I continued going to the dietician with little enthusiasm. I watched my weight go up and up as she told me what I was doing wrong. I wanted to tell her "I know what I am doing wrong. I know how to gain weight and lose weight. I have done it a million times. Why do you think I am fat?" So, as all the signs on the map told me to give up on the idea, I get a phone call from my doctor out of the blue. It was a sign!

He was so nice. He said he just wanted to check on me. We talked about the surgery and what was keeping me from having it. Turns out, my surgeon is as much a shrink as he is a weightloss doctor. We decided that I would still do the surgery, but I would wait until Spring Break. That would give me a chance to enjoy the holidays (and there is nothing like the holidays when you are larger than life!). On January 1st, I joined a gym and started trying to lose weight again. I set my date for March 6th. In the two months leading up to my surgery, I was able to lose 10 lbs all by myself. I felt defeated. I mean, I was eating right, I was exercising five days a week and nothing. I say I was eating right. I was eating the right things, but I was still unable to pass up a cake or cookie. I was still hating myself for being so weak. When i finally started the pre-op diet, I had a renewed sense of self-worth. For one week, I had to drink my diet. My docotor told me there are very few things that I can control in a surgery, this diet was one of them. And as I stated, "I did it with gusto!" I monitored my intake, I followed the rules. I was going to make sure my liver was a skinny as it could possibly be. (Side note, why do doctors feel the need to tell us we have a fatty liver? I want to respond, "I have a fat butt too, but you don't state that obvious").

So March 6th arrives and it is surgery day . . .