Shit’s getting real. Like, for real real.

I pre-registered for surgery this morning and moments ago I set up my last appointment before surgery, the Pre-Surgical Testing: Upper GI, Chest Xray, EKG, Blood work-up.

  • In two days, I start the liquid diet (for my plan it’s specific protein shakes and water and protein shakes…) for two full weeks.
  • In five days, I have my pre-surgical testing done.
  • In ten days, I have another WLS group meeting to attend (my own choice).
  • In twelve days, I have my pre-op appointment with my surgeon.
  • In fifteen days, I can have nothing more than clear liquids all day.
  • In sixteen days, I go in for surgery.

I don’t have a time yet but. Um. THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING.

And I’m REALLY getting excited again.

December is going to be one helluva month, that’s for sure, because not only do I have the above going on, but there’s also:

  • In twenty-four days, it’s Christmas Eve (which is when everyone comes to my place and we feast on schnitzel and potatoes and sweets… this year I guess I’ll be sipping while they all feast).
  • In twenty-five days, it’s Christmas Day (which is when I make sticky buns that my almost 7 year old daughter anticipates and looks forward to having every single year. I’ll still make them, of course, but I’ll be sipping on a protein shake while she indulges and I smile on watching her light up.)
  • In twenty-nine days, my baby girls turns 7 (sniff, sniff, sniff). (Not sure what we’re doing that day, but it will be something special as always. Her choice. Last year we took her to LegoLand and Benihana. She loved both. This year I think she wants to go to the zoo [she LOVES animals] but I’m not sure if it’ll be open [are they open in winter in Chicago?]. And of course we’ll take her out to eat… which will be my first outing post-op and I’ll still be on my liquid diet phase so not really sure how that’s all going to work but it will it will it will!)

almost December

This is the first time since having my sweet baby doll (7 years ago end of December) that we’re not sending out a family photo Christmas card. Truth is we just didn’t have time and money to get family pics done as we have in the past, so I just ordered cards with a cute pic of my girl on them. I like getting family pics of us but it’s just going to have to wait I guess.

And I’m sort of okay with all of this because I’ve been eating nonstop the past couple of months. Like, I feel gross most of the time because of the quantity and quality of the foods I’ve consumed. It’s like I’m completely out of control. I just keep telling myself, come this Friday (12/2), I’m on all liquids for two weeks prior to surgery so why not just eat all the foods while I can? But that’s bullshit because eating all the foods makes me feel like crap so why do I continue to do it??!?

It’s maddening. And a bit depressing.

I’ve gained weight and my clothes are getting smaller and smaller. My stomach is bloated so much I’m certain I look pregnant to some. But because I’m fat anyway, they just are probably unsure if I’m just fat or if I’m indeed pregnant.

Enough of that. I need to focus on the good stuff:

  • Come Friday, it’ll be all liquids for two weeks. How is this “good”? It’s going to force me to focus on the liquids and the surgery instead of leaving me to think of all the foods I won’t be able to stuff in my hole for a couple of months.
  • 18 freaking days till surgery, yo. This is good. Good. No matter the fact that every so often a wave of OH-SHIT-SHOULD-I-REALLY-DO-THIS-LIFE-ALTERING-PERMANENT-THING?! hits me.
  • I’ve been sleeping with a cpap now for 6 nights and it’s been GLORIOUS. I haven’t had that much difficulty adjusting to wearing the contraption and my sleep has been getting better and better. I’m awake and alert all day, every day. It’s freaking GLORIOUS.


24 … days

Something tells me that the next 24 days will fly by and seem more like 24 hours when it’s time to finally get the surgery.

I picked up my new sleeping buddy, the cpap. I’m exhausted after sitting there for an hour and a half listening to how to use it, why to use it, how to clean it, blah blah blah. But I’m also quite excited to use it as I freaking LOVE sleep.

I also picked up two weeks worth of bariatric protein shake powder for the two weeks prior to surgery when all I’m to consume is liquids.

I still have yet to hear back on when I’m to get my final pre-op stuff done.

The dude helping me with the cpap told me I was brave for going through with the weight loss surgery. It’s the second time I’ve heard “brave” in regards to getting the surgery. I’ve never once thought of it that way, but I like it.

Because it kind of is brave of me to do this.

I’m changing my life forever.

And for good.


It’s in the 70s today in Chicago. That’s weird and I don’t like it. Why? Because it makes me sweat too much and I abhor sweating.

I was thinking of this as I trudged my way to the car during my lunch break.

The sweating didn’t really start till I hauled ass in Costco to find a bag of Chia seeds… then I “ran” back out to the car, over to get gas, back to work, then hustled my fat ass back inside the building.

I hate sweating so much but a year from now, should it be 70 degrees out this close to end of the year, I shouldn’t be sweating unless I really exert myself to do so. I should be (could be?) half my body size a year from now and that will greatly reduce my sweat capacity, no?

Goodness, I hope so. 

Outside of feeling more alive and being more active, not sweating so much (until menopause truly hits I suppose) is something I cannot freaking wait to experience.

Being morbidly obese isn’t as easy as it may look eh.

30 more days

32 days to go

I’m beginning to come to terms with all of this– that I’m having WLS in a little more than a month, that I’m completely changing my life.

It’s a big freaking deal, yo.

My sweet baby girl (she’s almost 7 and not a baby as she often tells me though, as I always answer back, she’ll always be my baby) told me last night that I was beautiful. We were drifting off to sleep and she made sure I heard her:

“Mama?” she whispered.

“Mmm,” I replied.

“Mama?” she whispered again.

I opened my eyes and could see her eyes were open and looking right into me as we lay face to face in bed.

“Yeah baby?”

“You’re beautiful,” she said.

I couldn’t help but smile. And I could feel my insides start to weep a bit, too.

“Oh baby,” I answered. “You’re SO beautiful.”

“But you’re more beautiful.”

This isn’t our nightly routine. Generally she turns on some music and I tell her I love her and to have sweet dreams and close my eyes and fall asleep before she does and that’s that. A few times she’s reached out to place her hand on my face and tell me she loves me, but none of this “beautiful” business.

“Thank you baby doll,” I said before we both drifted off to sleep.

And now this morning as I write this, I’m left to wonder if she senses that changes are coming…

My husband and I have eluded to surgery in conversation, but we’ve been pretty careful not to really discuss it in terms of “surgery” or “hospital”, etc. I don’t want to scare her. I was originally planning to tell her I’m having surgery, of course, but not until that day or the day before.

But maybe I should tell her sooner?

I’ve always been honest with her and I’m a believer that kids hear everything; they may not understand all that’s going on, but they’re aware that something’s happening. So I’m wondering if maybe she knows things are going to drastically change. I don’t want her to worry and I fear she will worry if I tell her too soon, but I also don’t want her to stress out thinking that something is wrong.

I’m sure I’m not making much sense with what I’m feeling regarding my girl and telling her. I’m probably just projecting a lot of emotional pain I endured as a young child onto her. Or maybe I’m not? I don’t know.

I do know, however, that having this surgery is important for so many reasons, but mainly to live a healthy, happy, active life watching my sweet baby girl grow and blossom.



I completed the overnight sleep study last night. Phew, I’m tired.

Seriously though, it was quite weird and awkward but it’s done. For now. I’m not even sure how many wires were hooked up to me… to the top of my head, my face, my chin, my back, my legs. Very weird. And awkward.

Then at about midnight, the tech came in to hook me up to the fun cpap thingie. Apparently I had quit breathing enough times, yay!

She said she’d start me on the nose piece only rather than the piece that covers your mouth (and nose?). A couple hours later she came in and hooked me up the nose piece that pushed oxygen through my nostrils rather than cup my nose like the other piece.

I didn’t really snore (gee, maybe because I didn’t really sleep??).

Apparently I should do well with either nose things and the option will be mine. She did say that this was the easiest of the cpap contraptions to have and I did well with the lowest setting of air.

Or something along those lines.

Before I left this morning, the tech did admit that I could probably have done without either breathing devises all together, but because of the surgery (36 days!!), she felt that they would’ve sent me back to do it again. I guess I was on the cusp of having sleep apnea and because of the surgery, it’s best to stay safe.

I get this and can appreciate it I guess.

So now I just wait for them to call me back to set me up with a machine.

Whoop whoop.


Facts that cannot be disputed

I’m white.

I’m a white woman.

I’m a white mom.

I’m a white mom to a little girl.

I’m a white mom to a biracial little girl.

I’m a white mom to a half black, half white little girl.

I’m a white mom to a half black, half white little girl in the United States of America.


I’m white.

I’m a white woman.

I’m a white married woman.

I’m a white married woman to a black man.

I’m a white married woman to a black man in the United States of America.


I have privilege because I’m white… but not because I’m a woman.

My husband has privilege because he’s a man… but not because he’s black.

And now my daughter, born during the reign of America’s first black President (half black, half white just like her, she’ll remind you), doesn’t have privilege because she’s half black and female.


These (above) are my feelings on all this… I absolutely refuse to bash, hate, or disrespect anyone, but this just isn’t so easy to digest right now.