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Tuesday, July 10

Joining the "Band" Wagon - PART 1

I am finally here!

And you are finally here!

Chances are, we are both here for the same reason. If not, I thank you for being interested in a glimpse inside the mind of a not-so-exciting Mom in Chicago.

Just like you I balance many things in my life and that means that MYSELF is often excluded. I love taking care of my husband and kids. I love being a teacher. I love taking graduate classes. What I don’t love is how my mind, body and soul often suffers in the process. Emphasis on BODY. The vessel in which I grew two beautiful children seems to be left for shark feed these days and that has to change! This is my story, and my journey, and I hope that anyone who is interested in Lap Bands [LB], is qualifying for one, or already has one reads this and can find a connection in the chaos and BAND WITH ME!

My story starts years ago, I always struggled with my weight, blah blah blah. I feel like at this point, that part of my life is neither here nor there. What matters is TODAY, but to know where I am going you have to know where I have been and for that I am sorry that this post will be so long. Being my first, there was just no way to avoid the length.

My LB journey started at Wisconsin Dells this spring break 2012.  I bet you’re thinking that my decision revolves around my need to wear a swim-burka, but no. If you have ever been to an indoor waterpark in the greater Midwest area you will know by just looking around you probably look pretty fucking fabulous. There are tons of overweight swimmers at the pool in bathing suits about three sizes too small with bellys hanging out all over. My husband and I even invented an “I SPY” game just for the occasion.  The straw that broke this [mine] camel’s back was what happened on the waterslide.

My son Vinny who is seven-years-old and 45 lbs went down the waterslide twice with his dad before he asked me to come with him. I had been avoiding this for as long as I could. The whole time we were in line with that stupid figure 8 shaped tube I had anxiety. When my son and I go down and it’s black the whole way down. My stomach was churning the whole time. When we got to the bottom, sure as shit my fat ass caused us to capsize the tube, just like I was afraid of. We fly into the water which is only about two feet deep and as I submerge I am trying to reach out in the dark (I wear contacts, ok?) to find my son who I am sure is drowning.  When I am able to get my bearings and stand the fuck up, my son is laughing his ass of in the arms of the lifeguard and my husband is telling me we should have been leaning forward so we wouldn’t tip backward. Everyone thinks this is hilarious but me. I am mortified. I AM DONE.

The next day we are in the wave pool, each of us balancing on a tube holding one of the kids. While the waves are rocking I have an epiphany that changes my life. Here it is friends, this is my exact “AHA moment” that I had heard about on Oprah for so many years right smack in the middle of the wave pool of the Wilderness Resort at Wisconsin Dells. I am thinking that if one of the kids falls out of one of these tubes like happened at the waterslide, with the water here being 5 feet deep and about 200 people in the wave pool  in about 100 tubes, A. how the fuck could we find one of the kids if they slipped under??? and B. could my fat ass swim down to the bottom and get them??? The answer blinded me like lightning, because of course it was no. I cannot swim down. I cannot save my baby.  At that exact moment I knew what I had to do. I had been thinking about LBS for a few years but was never really sure about it. What happened in the water that spring break gave me the confidence to look at myself and my situation and say enough is enough.

As soon as we got home I told my family of my decision to start the qualifying process for Lap Band Surgery.  Maybe you are worried about starting that dialog just as I was. What was different this time was instead of bringing it up casually like, “Hey how ‘bout that Lap band Surgery!” and waiting for the family vultures to devour me up, I told them matter-of-factly that I was starting my process. This turned out to be huge because instead of JUDGING, my family actually LISTENED.  My husband saw my desperation, and said the one thing that was going to put this whole plan in motion, “Okay.”


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