The Day After Tomorrow - AND I'M FREAKING OUT!!!

Giant ball of nerves.  That's how I would describe myself right now.  I am totally freaked out.  I think probably because I've never been under general anesthesia before and I don't know what to expect.  I'm also having (probably) irrational fears about the silliest things.  I can't stand the thought that they're probably going to intubate me during surgery, even though I'll have no idea that even happens because I'll be out like a light.  I am paranoid to no end that I'm going to rip open my incision and the implant (never mind the fact that it's HUGE) is going to plop right out.  Terrified.  I'm stressed out about hearing that I'll need help to go to the bathroom or do anything really for the first few days.  I'm such an independent person to begin with - leaning on my husband for that kind of stuff won't come easy to me.  I'm nervous about the meds, too.  Ironically enough, I wish I could take something to calm me down, but alas.  I'm  not allowed to take anything.  Like ANYTHING.

I have loads of stuff I need to get done at work today and tomorrow but I can't focus.  I can't pay attention to anything I need to do because all I can think about is my surgery and everything that surrounds it. 

In a few minutes I'm going to head out for lunch.  I've watched about one million vlogs about recovery tips, etc.  I'm going to pick up some ensure or slimfast or something to help with the probable lack of appetite and the need to eat something with the pills I have to take.  They say to get a stool softener because of the narcotics, and some gas-x for the bloating caused by the anesthesia.  Sounds fun already, right??  I also read that since you have to sleep on your back on an incline that you should get one of those u-shaped donut pillows so that your head doesn't flop while you're sleeping.  I read it  helps save your neck.  I need to pick up a couple button-down shirts too and I thought I'd get some feminine wipes since I probably can't shower for a couple of days.  Oooh, and soft ice-packs.  You know, those gel filled ones?  I think I should get some of those.  When I get back to work, I'll put my head down and my nose to the grind stone and get my stuff done.  Nothing stresses me out more than leaving piles of work behind while I'm out.

Tonight I'm going to get my nails done after work, and then I'll drop my prescriptions off at the pharmacy and get those filled.  I'll grocery shop while I'm there so that my husband and child have food in the house while I'm a drug-hazed lop for a couple of days.  I'll try and get some laundry done tonight and tomorrow night, and run a vacuum through the house too.  Thursday morning before we leave for the surgery center, I'll get my sheets changed on my bed and bring in all the pillows that I will need.  Lord I hope I'm not a total hot-mess when I come home.  We decided we're going to drive my car and not the truck, because my husband thinks it'll be easier for me to get up out of the car than to climb up into the truck.  In typing that, I just freaked out about the thought of a seat belt across my chest.  Great. 

Anyway, I'm gonna run out and get what I need to pick up.  I'll keep you all posted about things.  Probably won't write tomorrow.  I'll try  to write Thursday night, but that's going to depend on how drugged up I am.  If not, I'll for sure try to get that done on Friday.  I'll be sure to post some before & after pics, too.  (Clothed though.  Sorry.) 

Until later...

H

Two More Days & A Wake-Up

Well, it's the Monday before my surgery.  Two more full days and a wake-up and it'll be go-time.  I AM FREAKING OUT.  I'm trying to keep it together and stay calm, but I am a giant ball of nerves. I keep getting these waves of panic and nervousness.  I do not love this part.  I think maybe if I'd had surgery of any kind before (not counting having my daughter, where all plans went straight out the window because of all sorts of unforeseen circumstances), I might be able to settle down a little bit.  But I basically have no idea what I'm in for.  The control freak and the wimp in me simultaneously hate that. Actually, I think that experience is what has me on edge.  I think I just remember so much trauma and so much of it not going to plan when she was born, that I assume that's how this will be.  I know though, this surgery is controlled.  It's on purpose.  It's not bringing a life into this world, and there's not really any way I can bleed out or die from this. 

It's hard to put a finger on what exactly I'm nervous about.  I'm freaking out about the anesthesia.  I always thought it was something I wanted to do, so that I could know what it feels like to just go to sleep, versus it taking hours to get my brain to unwind.  I'm nervous about a tube going down my throat.  I'm nervous about not waking up.  I'm really extra nervous about that.  Like, a lot.  I'm nervous about the incision.  Last week I had a dream that I was sleeping on my stomach (like I normally do) and that I smashed my implants and ruptured my incision.  I woke up in a near-hysterical panic, thinking I had torn the incision and that my actual implants were falling out.  I was almost crying.  It took me a few minutes to wake up and realize that I was fine, that everything was fine, and that I didn't even have the implants yet.  I was checking myself making sure there were no gaping holes in my chest or blood all over the sheets.  Completely freaked me out. 

Tonight after gymnastics with the kid, I'll drop my prescriptions off at the pharmacy.  Tomorrow at lunch I'll go to walmart and stock up on extra pillows (I read one of those neck ones are nice when you have to sleep on your back propped up for so long, because they help your head not flop around.), some of those soft ice packs, maybe a front close sports bra or two, and a couple of mens huge button-down shirts.  I'll work the rest of this week in the evenings to make sure the house is clean.  I'll put clean sheets on my bed Thursday morning before we leave to go to the surgery center.  I'll grocery shop probably tomorrow night and make sure there's plenty of food for everyone while I spend a couple of days sound asleep. 

My goal is to be off the medicine that makes my head feel fuzzy as quickly as possible.  I hate not being in control of myself and I hate not feeling like I have a clear head.  I don't really drink and I don't like to feel out of whack like that.  I have a kid.  I have responsibilities.  I don't want to be out of it for too long.  I'm giving myself until Saturday morning, and then it's time to suck it up.  Of course, I say that now - we'll see how it really goes. 

I'll update again at least one more time this week to let you all know what's going on.  I'm going to try to update the day of surgery - probably that night, but we'll see.  I don't know how I'll be feeling, so I'm not sure how I'll be able to function. 

Until next time...

H

How To Tell Your Daughter You're Getting a Boob Job

Telling people about this surgery has been a major grey area for me. 

Where most of our friends are concerned, my thought is that it's going to be pretty stinkin' obvious that I had something done so I don't really care if they know.  Some other friends I'm not as eager to share the information with, just for personal reasons. 

My family though - that's where it got sticky for me.  My husband obviously knew the moment I knew.  He's been to all of my appointments with me, has been an instrumental support in this whole thing and has been my rock to lean on when I get a little freaked out about it.  Electively going under general anesthesia is sort of a big deal to me.  This surgery is for purely cosmetic reasons - only my vanity is cause for the operation.  I'm o.k. with that.  There's still a risk though, no matter how small that I may not wake up from this surgery, or that something will go horribly wrong.  When my daughter was born, things did go horribly wrong, and I nearly died.  No joke.  That scenario keeps replaying in my mind... what little I can remember. 

I made the decision to tell my dad about it for the reasons I just discussed.  He's literally the only family I have that I speak to on my side.  He's all I have.  He was supportive and told me he knew it was something I had wanted forever and that he was happy for me that I had made the decision to do it. 

Where I struggle the most is what to tell my 6 year old little girl.  I know that by getting this done, I send a message to her that to be happy with your body, you have to change things at a pretty serious level.  What I decided to tell her is that it's important to love yourself.  That Mommy exercises to be healthy and fit.  Mommy eats healthy foods.  Mommy makes sure to go to the doctor to check and make sure that everything is o.k., but that there are some things that exercise and eating right can't change or make better, and so I'm going to the doctor to help me like parts of me better than I do now.  I told her that I will probably be super sleepy for a few days and that I'll be in bed for a couple of days, but that I will be just fine, that I still love her extra, and that I'll be up and about in just a couple of days.  I asked her if she had any questions, and she said no. I felt like that was age-appropriate for her.  As she gets older, we can talk about it more in depth.  I just felt like for now, that's what she needed to know, and she'll ask the questions she needs to ask probably when it happens, and then we'll go forward from there.  She's a smart kid.  She'll know something is different and I'm sure she'll have questions.  I am always very open and very direct (within reason - she is after all, only 6). 

I just don't want her to have it in her head that she has to get a boob job to like her body.  I am 33 years old.  This is something I have wanted for myself since I was 15.  I feel like I have waited long enough to be sure that this is something that I want for myself.  I am confident in my decision (although, at 3 days pre-op, I am scared shitless!) and I know I am doing this for me 100%. 

I'll keep you all posted.

H

7 Days & A Wake-Up: Pre-Op

Since I was 15 years old, maybe even younger, one of the biggest wish-list items of all time for me was to get my boobs done.  A breast augmentation if you will.  I was really young when I started getting them - in a training bra and on my period by 4th grade and by 7th grade I was a C cup.  Except all of a sudden they just stopped growing.  I know there are smaller breasted women who love their size and they rock the hell out of small boobies with all of the confidence in the world, AND THAT'S AWESOME! I've never been that girl though. 

 
My own femininity has always been defined by myself through the length of my hair, the va-va-voom of my curves, makeup, great perfume, a pouty lip, etc.  and for my entire ta-ta having life, I've been insecure about my inability to fill out certain clothes, my side profile and near complete lack of projection, and just how I feel about them in general.

Oddly enough, my now husband promised to pay for a boob job when we were only 15.  I held him to it for like 17 years!  Then I decided I'd rather pay for it myself.  I didn't want any negative connotations surrounding my decision that maybe I did it for him, or that he made me do it.  This is ALL ME.  For years he would put restrictions or criteria on how I had to be in terms of accepting my body before he would do it.  He didn't want to hear me put myself down for a year and then I could.  Or, I had to lose the weight I wanted to lose and then I could.  He wasn't trying to be a jerk, but there were always limitations.  Maybe he wasn't ready, or maybe he knew I wasn't ready either.  In retrospect, I'm really glad I didn't do this sooner.  I didn't know enough about myself and who I am.  One day early this year, I decided I was just going to make the consultation appointment.  I'm not getting any younger!  He couldn't possibly understand how it felt to me to be in my skin and to have limitations or restrictions put on something I wanted to do for myself, and I got tired of watching dirt bikes and boats and motorcycles and RV's and a million other toys be bought and sold enough times over the years to buy me 10 boob jobs.  So I booked a consultation, knowing that once I got the ball rolling, he'd be quick to jump on board.  Not a tough argument to win when your hubby is a self proclaimed boob-man. 

Now don't get me wrong... I have amazing boobs.  The shape and the roundness and the drop of them is awesome.  I have perfect nipple placement - and those are pretty great too!  I am a 36-38D since I'm a bit chubbier than my c-cup days, which is good when you hear the size, but that's all width.  Like I said... Nearly no projection.  In that department I'm probably a B, but I can't wear a B cup.  I'd be spilling out of that for sure.

So I made a consultation with a surgeon in Denver near where we live who did my good friends' implants.  She loved him and she loves her boobs.  I trust her judgement.  Everything immediately felt right to me.  The consultation went great.  We talked about my goals (generous is what I said I wanted), talked about what material I wanted my implant to be (silicone gel for me... Smooth round moderate  profile implants) he measured my breast tissue and recommended the size range I should consider based on how I'm built.  He said my old boobs were very pretty and my new boobs will look "spectacular!" This made me very happy. As it turns out, my body is built to handle some pretty big boobies! 

I tried on some sizers, which are basically implants in a bra to get a feel for what I wanted.  Immediately I was at the larger end of the spectrum with a 700cc implant in my bra.  They looked awesome but didn't have an 800cc silicone sizer - the largest silicone ones they make.  The surgeon explained that the size difference between 700 & 800 was literally millimeters, but that most women's #1 complaint is that they didn't go bigger.  I figured I liked how the 700 looked and if the 800 was only marginally larger, better go big or go home.  It sounds gigantic, but in reality, they look very proportionate to my body.  I don't look like a freak-show with basketball boobs.  (If that's what you want, go for it!  I work in an office though and I have a daughter I don't want to embarrass).  It's expensive, so I may as well go as big as I can right out the gate.  That way there can be no "I wish I woulda..."  Especially since I have no desire to get saline. 

 
We rounded out the consultation with a quote and on our way home, my hubby said "I'm all in.  Let's do it." HECK YEAH!!!! So we made some moves and I scheduled my 3D imaging where we got a glimpse of what they'll look like and put a sizable down payment on them. I had my pre-op appointment this past Monday and surgery is scheduled for exactly a week & a day from right now!! 

I am nervous and excited and pretty nervous and super excited all in one.  When I tell people I'm doing it, the answer is usually "Why?  They're already big!" Well, they're not.  I rely heavily on Victoria's Secret so they look pretty good so long as my clothes are on.  I'm doing this entirely for me though.  It's something I have wanted for so long.  I am buggin' out about it, but I'm sure that's pretty normal.  Right now the biggest thing I'm experiencing is nerves.  I'm having a tough time sleeping at night and I know I need to rope that in or I'm going to be a basket-case. 

I will for sure chronicle the whole journey on here as I go through the process.  I'll post photos of my progress and log it all here too. I have no experience here, but I'm happy to answer questions if I can. 

Thanks!