My mommy partner-in-crime, Michelle, is through the other side: she’s officially three weeks past her surgery. She came into the office yesterday for a follow-up visit, and while she was here we took some photos for this blog and chatted a bit about her whole surgical experience, so I can write it up later. She looks great. Beyond great. Dr. Herluf Lund did an amazing job and Michelle is tinier than ever.
And I am so jealous, I can’t even see straight.
She’s rockin’ her short-shorts, and telling all sorts of stories about how much fun shopping for clothes is now, especially bras. I’m so happy for her, and grateful to have her as a “partner” in this journey, and so anxious for my own procedure…but it’s a month away. A full month still to obsess. To look at before and after pictures, to sort through my closet and wonder what I’ll keep and what I’ll give away. A month of visiting bathing suit departments at every store, wondering wistfully if I’ll ever be able to wear one…and then buying shoes instead to keep myself occupied. A month of driving my family crazy talking about how they’ll have to help me, a month of reiterating every single surgery dream I have to Dr. William Huffaker (don’t laugh, you’d be amazed at the kooky dreams that occur while you’re waiting on a life-changing event). A full month.
And the obsession doesn’t just belong to me, either. My son, getting ready to start kindergarten this summer, is obsessed as well. He’s at an age where he’s too smart to not be told an appropriate version of the truth; but he’s not quite old enough to understand, either. He doesn’t get why mommy is having surgery, and no matter how much I explain to him that I’ll be fine, and I’ll feel better afterwards, all he knows is that he doesn’t want it to happen. He often deadpans “you should just keep your extra skin, mom. It’ll be fine.” He worries that he won’t be able to hug me afterwards, or that our nighttime cuddles will no longer exist when my belly is gone. I’m excited to show him that cuddles will always be available, as long as he wants them, whether mommy has a big belly or not.
I sort of feel like I did as a child, waiting for Christmas to come. That date, circled on my calendar, seems like a lifetime away…and in a strange way, it is. I’m leaving one version of my life behind and entering into a new one.
I. Cannot. Wait.
Posted by: Rhonda Shrum
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