Giving It My All

15 months ago I made the life altering decision to have bariatric surgery.  Initially I thought I wanted the lap band, lovingly referred to as the crap band, by those whove suffered it's complications.  Not able to get passed the idea that I would be able to feel it (shudder) under my skin, and that I would require many doctor's visits to find that "sweet spot", I turned my attention to the vertical sleeve gastrectomy and gastric  bypass.  Bypass came with the dreaded "dumping syndrome" and altering my anatomy in such a way that would cause malabsorption of critical vitamins and nutrients.  So "the sleeve" was the way I chose to go.

Coming to the decision to have surgery was not an easy one.  I wrestled with the idea that I could do it on my own, with will power.  Yeah, right.  Will power saw me through losing 40 pounds with Weight Watchers and gaining back 70.  Will power had me joining the gym to "workout" and not break a sweat.  Will power allowed me to give up whenever I felt the slightest bit of discomfort.  I also struggled spiritually with removing a part of my body.  A body given to me by God.  A body that I was supposed to take care of, but had allowed to become fragile and weak.  So I prayed, and prayed, and prayed.  And then I prayed some more.  I chose to have the surgery at Abington Hospital's Institue for Metabolic and Bariatric Surgery.  Abington's program (along with my health insurance) put me (and every other candidate for surgery) through a multitude of tests to make sure that I was a good candidate for surgery, that I would survive the surgery, and that I would be successful after surgery.  During this 3-4 month process, I kept praying, asking God that His will be done, not my desire.  

Once I cleared all the hurdles I was ready for surgery, or so I thought.  God had cleared the way, all signs were a go, and then came the thoughts of my husband and my daughter (5 years old at the time).  I was about to put myself (willingly) through MAJOR surgery, with a possible fatal outcome, to lose weight.  Really?  How selfish was that?  My baby girl could grow up without a mom because I lacked the will power to put the damn fork down and walk away from the table.  Maybe I could do it on my own.  Maybe, just maybe I could be successful.  This time.  Or next time.  Or the time after that.  But here I was, 245 pounds, and gaining.  Who was I kidding?  It was now or never.  So back to my knees I fell.  And I prayed some more.  I prayed for this last chance to get it right.  I promised God that I would "Give It My All."  

Everyday is not perfect.  I am not perfect.  11 months post surgery and I am still "Giving It My All."  I thank God for this gift to get it right, to set a proper example for my daughter, to live the fulfilled life that He intended for me to live, one day at a time.