To Cut or Not To Cut?

That is the question and I think I have finally found the answer. Since I had my sons I have been contemplating the very self indulgent practice called a tummy tuck. At my heaviest with my second son I weighed 201 pounds. I gained 70 pounds twice in 2 years. I have lost all of that but have been left with a deflated kangaroo pouch in the front. My ass, thighs, and arms all went back to normal but my stomach is this round sagging thing. It’s not huge, but unattractive none the less. Workout? I tried but cannot stand exercise (I also think that due to my pregnancies the muscles in my stomach might be shot,). I have never had to in my life and though it sounds ridiculous I just can’t seem to get up the gumption (I’m lazy as hell). I am not exaggerating or trying to sound pompous, I really haven’t had to work at fitness. Sure I’ve gained and lost 5 pounds frequently over the years but I just don’t put on enough to be a health risk or avoid swimsuits, until my 2 little bundles of joy of course.

My husband and I have discussed surgery on and off over the last year and for a long time it was agreed if I worked out for 6 months and nothing really changed I could have the surgery. Recently we came to a new realization. I could go in one day and come out completely fixed. I have never been a heavy person so it’s not like I would gain 100 pounds and ruin the results in a year. My body would stay that way pretty much for the rest of my life (with allowance for some chub here and there, I’m not an alien). It would be an investment.

What exactly am I “workin with” you ask. Since I am too embarrassed to actually include a photo of my stomach I will say that my before photo would look something like a combo of this woman's before and after photos:

Before / After

I have the tummy of the “before” picture with the ass, hips, and ribs of the “after” photo. That shit just doesn’t match and it causes me great stress when undressing. Add to that the jacked up condition of my damn belly button piercing (yes I hopped on that whore train to celebrate my college graduation 5 years ago). My once boarder line hot piercing is so stretched it barley keeps 14 gage jewelry in and I don't wear the jewelry it looks like I have 2 belly buttons (that’s an exaggeration but it doesn’t look good). I think it would be wonderful to just have my flabby little free loader cut off and thrown away. I have achieved a confidence in my adulthood that as a teenager did not exist (highschool trauma saved for another time). But this damn sack of skin gives me pause every time. If I walk by a mirror naked I have to lift it and mess with it no matter how many times I’ve seen the damned thing. It gots to go. It’s closing time and my stomach has completely overstayed its welcome.

Along with the wonderful things I have also explored the cons of the surgery (I’ve had a long time to think this through as I constantly surveyed my children’s leftovers). First, I am afraid of the whole put to sleep anesthesia thing. I have not had any real surgery since my tonsils when I was 2 which I don’t remember and I was awake for my C-sections. Second, I am a little wary of the recovery. My mom has agreed to come in and help with the kids for a week and my wonderful husband has offered to get he and I a hotel room for the first few days so I guess recovery wouldn’t be too bad (except for the searing pain). The third and last reason I hesitated was a bit strange. My husband had mentioned I would probably lose my c-section scar. I got sentimental for like 2 seconds about losing my badge of honor, the mark of the exit hole which brought my boys into the world. Then I decided the new and probably larger scar would take its place and without the bloated pot belly above it, I wouldn’t miss the c-section scar that much.

I know it’s vain and lazy to take this route but I also believe it would restore that last bit of confidence I am missing. I would be able to wear a two piece again. I wouldn’t have to avoid certain clothes because my tummy still looks like I’m 3 months pregnant and I would fit some of the clothes I own better. I am willing to keep up my body once the surgery is done. I would not become a “surgery slut” afterward and pull a Montag, completely distorting my face and body so that I look like a plastic blowfish (I like the rest of me just fine thank you). This procedure would be to simply help me to enjoy my body the way that I used to.

My first course of action right now is getting a consultation and finding out about pricing/financing (that shit is expensive and we aren’t rich). I think I found a doctor that does a great job and who sets up a plan whereby you set up the surgery with payments being made in the time before. That could work. So other people’s opinions aside, I think I’m going to go for it. I want to be sexy dammit and having a deflated balloon for a tummy 2 years after my last child just doesn’t do sexy any justice. I will come back to log my research findings once I complete the consult.

What do you think? Is it wrong to take the easy way out and have the surgery? If you could, would you have a surgery to fix something about yourself?

I Hate You Aunt Flow, and Your Carry-on Baggage is Too Big for the Overhead Compartment

Caution: the following content may not be enjoyable for those of the male persuasion

Though I have never been properly diagnosed nor do I love giving in to one of the many disorders our health care profession has provided us with choosing from but I think I suffer from PMDD. If you’ve seen one of those cheesy YAZ commercials lately which depict women sitting around a nightclub or their coffee table discussing birth control, you know that PMDD is Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder. I know, I think the same thing when I see them, nothing says clubbing like birth control. And you know women, we discuss that shit everywhere. Or so advertisers seem to think. Anyway, I digress. The reason I am self diagnosing is because every month during the week sometimes two weeks before my little monthly “friend” I gain two very severe new personalities. They are nothing like some of the fun child personalities Sally Field enjoyed in Cybil. No, my two personalities are Raging Bitch and/or Depressed Wino. During the other week or two of the month I get to be the cool chick that is in my nature (and yes I am a cool chick, I have been told so by many dudes). This craziness would be fine if I lived alone in the Ozarks, but with a husband and two sons it can be a huge inconvenience. I have been trying to explain this issue to my husband before he and my sons decide to start living elsewhere monthly. The poor guy didn’t have much exposure to this issue early on as we did not live together during courtship and I got pregnant pretty much a month after we moved in together. I was pregnant again about 3 months after my first son so my husband’s exposure to my menstrual cycle has really come on in the last 2 years. He is not impressed. I appreciate that said “friend” was always a sign of my fertility and a great indicator of the fact that my little men were going to make their way into the world but, now that I am done with all of that I wish it would just go away. I get in moods which I can’t control and which can be very off putting to those around me, as I mentioned. All of that shitty behavior goes without even accounting for the accoutrements that must be purchased and used during this unstable time. I don’t use tampons so I am faced with an extra diaper (so to speak) to change for 4 to 5 days of each month. If this monthly thing were an “aunt” or a “friend” I would disown her and change my address and phone number so that she could never find me again. I think I will ask for an elective hysterectomy. Maybe without the engine the car won’t start. Then I can keep my sanity and my husband all month.