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Real life experiences documented in "The Journal of A Mommy Make Over Patient"
Over the next couple of days, I took pride in going to the bathroom without my sister. I remembered the first time she came to help me and found me exiting the bathroom by myself; she admonished me for not waiting for her. Until she was reassured that I could do this without harming myself, I was kept under her watchful eyes.
Normally, my routine with my kids is that I must get at least 2 "body slams". This entails them backing up way across the room and then running with all of their speed right into my body. OUCH!!!!!! Post op day 1 I had forgotten to tell them we needed to suspend this game until further notice. I watched in fear as my son began to backup and then quickly my husband intercepted his little body sweeping him up into the air. So another game began. I thought very quickly about any other games we needed to place on hold, such as bedroom launcher, backrubs, and squeezeyouuntilIsquishyou. At first I wasn’t quite sure how to explain what I had done to my little ones. Then I thought about what they needed to know. I simply explained to them that during my precious moment of bringing them both into this world, everything on my body fell out of place; my daughter quickly remarked “too much information mummy" and my son said "yuk". As we all know, kids will only want to know about the things you hide from them so always be the one to tell them first; be truthful and usually there will not be a big ordeal. They both wanted to be notified when the games were back on.
Kathleen encouraged me to take a warm bath, go for a brief walk on my patio, read a magazine, and then get some rest. ...
If you have ever had surgery or know of any one who has, you would know about the infamous DAY 3. Well, I was not spared. This is when the discomfort, pain, impatience, and the blah's kick in at their worst. I knew all about day 3 and surely I was prepared. When I called Kathleen weeping and feeling yucky, she asked me what day it was. I said Day 4 because surely for a highly educated well-prepared patient like me, I would not have caved on Day 3, so this was Day 4. In her calm, comforting way, Kathleen counted the days. It was Day 3. She encouraged me to take a warm bath, go for a brief walk on my patio, read a magazine, and then get some rest. Of course, I did not take my pain medicine because I am a mother and could virtually stop a bullet between my teeth. She double-checked my meds and realized I had not taken in pain medication for quite some time. After taking these I felt much better; I followed all of her instructions and went off to get some rest. Whew!
On Day 5 I felt great, so great that I decided to accompany my daughter out of town to her violin recital. Day 6, I still felt even better, so I began working from home. Day 7, I decided to go to my son's soccer practice and picnic, in which I carried loads of items. Day 8, I return to my office. Day 9.... Well, I should not have done all the things I did. I came into the office to see Dr. Spence and I was in tears. I had failed to keep my promise and like a child, guilt consumed me. In the examination room I could hardly look at him, but instead of admonishing me he walked into the room with a look of determination that immediately reassured me. Whatever I had done, whatever was going wrong, it was going to be fixed. He gave me another chance and I was eternally grateful. Off to bed I went on Day 9, 10, 11, and 12. This is what I meant earlier, when I stated that Dr. Spence and Kathleen had to intervene to prevent me from doing harm. With rest my body re-energize and restarted the healing process.
With everyday that I felt better, I began to peek at myself more. First I looked at my breasts. Wow, they were huge! ...
At first I did not care to look at myself, as I was more consumed with feeling lousy. With everyday that I felt better, I began to peek at myself more. First I looked at my breasts, wow they were huge! At my next visit I asked Dr. Spence if they were going to go down. He looked at me and smiled, and then he began speaking. As he did, it began to sound familiar; I had heard these words before. A few times before as a matter of fact. At the consult, at the pre-operative appointment, and on the day of surgery...."The final results will take anywhere from 4-6 months. At about 6-8 weeks I would begin to truly appreciate the transformation and more dramatically thereafter." Though he had said it many times before, there was no hint of impatience in his tone, just simple reassurance and confidence.
The butterfly emerges
Every time I saw an old friend I waited for the "Did you cut your hair? Is it your skin? I know you have lost weight, but you look so perfectly proportioned, like a Barbie Doll." ...
In my 6th week following surgery, I went with my sister to the mall to "help" her buy special eyeliner. (That is my story and I sticking to it.) Mommies, I went wild. I had not shopped in years. I had stopped shopping because nothing seemed to fit and every trip to the fitting room served as a reminder of what I had lost. I had always worked out, I had always been very fashion conscious and enjoyed updating my wardrobe. I am not sure when it all stopped. I had stopped being excited about me, but luckily my spouse had not. However, we should always remember moms, excitement is contagious and with children every ounce counts. Six hours later, the stores had closed for everyone else but me. It begun with the first outfit my sister encouraged me to try on. In my mind's eyes I was still the frumpy figure before surgery. In her eyes, she said I was a "drop dead hottie". So I began trying clothes on and I could not stop. The image that looked back at me in the cold light of the dressing room was absolutely fabulous. Could this really be me? With each outfit I tried on I dared the mirror to confirm my fear, that image staring back at me was only a mirage. But hours later the mirror was silent, my sister was begging me to stop, my daughter was pleading with daddy to come get her, and I was having the time of my life.
Over the next few weeks, every time I saw an old friend I waited for the "You look absolutely marvelous...what have you done? Did you cut your hair, is it your skin, I know you have lost weight, but you look so perfectly proportioned, like a Barbie Doll."
To help with the speeding and relaxation of my recovery I stumbled upon the expert fingers of Sandra Sigur, Dr. Spence’s massage therapist. One afternoon, after pushing myself too hard throughout the day, I made my way into Sandra’s cocoon. I managed to make it upon her table, but I could not lie flat. My body was so cramped from walking and running too hard. When Sandra began I feared that the tenderness of my skin would interfere with the treatment. Sandra reassured me that a lymphatic massage is not supposed to hurt, but is supposed to alleviate the discomfort by helping to relieve the body of toxins. Now, as most moms know, the only time we succumb to sleep is between the hours of 11:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m. Well not so if Sandra is anywhere nearby, I was asleep in only a few moments and when I woke up about an hour later my body was uncoiled. Relaxation is a good habit to have.
My journal will never end because my transformation never will. ...
During this journey, I learned that looking good and feeling good go hand in hand. While eating healthy is essential, looking well certainly encourages good behavior. Not only do I watch what I eat but I also enjoy getting on to the tennis court to work up an intense sweat. In addition, I adhere to my skincare regiment of Obagi foaming gel, sun block, and moisturizer.
It has now been 10 weeks and I still continue to enjoy the newness of me. It is said that beauty is within, but I have learned that it does not hurt to have some help to see that same beauty pulled to the outside.
My journal will never end because my transformation never will.