Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Things Only Hoped For

I found this quote the other day on pinterest, and it keeps swimming around in my head. It resonated with me so much. Not so much the first part but the second part, "Remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for."

It may sound strange to say but it reminds me of my weight loss surgery. Or at least the journey I went on to get weight loss surgery. My journey did not start on my surgery day, nor did it start when I first met with my surgeon. My journey started five years ago, when the thought,"I could just have weight loss surgery," first briefly flashed through my mind. I quickly dismissed that thought.

I was on a successful diet at the time, down to my lowest weight ever as an adult. At that time in my life, I was convinced I would never gain that weight back. But of course, I gained back everything I had lost plus 30 pounds.

I seriously started to consider surgery three years after that regain. I met with my Californian doctor, a kind, older gentleman, who never said one wit about my weight (making him one of my favorite doctors ever). I sat in his office, Adam by my side, and embarrassingly sobbed to him about how unhappy I was and how I wanted to have surgery.

He did not agree with that choice, telling me even after surgery I would have all the same problems I had before the surgery. That I would probably always have food issues, but he gave me a referral to a surgeon anyway.

I walked out feeling defeated.

Before meeting with the surgeon, I decided I should call my insurance company and see what their polices were for that type of procedure. They informed me on certain terms that there was absolutely nothing I could do to get them to cover it, Adam's employer opted out of covering any bariatric procedures. I remember the devastation that washed over me, the feeling that no one wanted to help me.  I remember laying in bed crying like a broken hearted teenage girl. I remember Adam holding me, saying we would figure it all out, somehow, someday. I had to let it go, there was nothing I could do. 

A couple of years later, we moved to Alabama. I was working full time, we were more financially secure, and we decided we wanted to start trying to have a baby.  I always figured I would have a problem getting pregnant. I was diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS) at a very young age. But everyone told me I was worrying too much, and everyone was telling me their success stories of getting pregnant-once, twice, three time with PCOS.

I knew in my heart of hearts that would not be the case for me. 

We tried for several months and nothing happened. I went to my gynecologist, he started me on clomid to get my ovaries  moving. He told me that particular drug sometimes causes people to have twins and multiples. I joked that I could be the new Kate Plus Eight (minus the bitchiness and bad hair dos). 

It didn't work.

He upped the dosage 1x, 2x, 3x. I never even ovulated. 

I asked him many times if it was my weight. He was not overly concerned about my weight, but said it could be a contributing factor. He referred me to a fertility specialist, but I didn't know if I was ready to go down that road. Shell out all that money for something like IVF, which may or may not work. 

Again, I just let it go. 

A few month later, I was working the summer program at work, and I lifted a cooler that I had no business lifting, and so started my battle with sciatica. Or what I thought was sciatica.  It paralyzed me, it stopped my running regimen. I put on even more weight. It would not go away, so the doctor sent me to get an MRI.   

The day I went to the doctor to get my results was one of my toughest appointments I've ever had. 

The nurse could not get the scale to weigh me due to me being over the weight limit. She lead me to other scales, none of them would weigh me. I was mortified. She had me estimate my weight, I subtracted 40 pounds. The doctor came in and told me I didn't have sciatica, but I had weakness in my lower back, caused by my weight. He made a referral for me for the weight loss surgeon without even asking me if that is what I wanted to do.

I cried for a long time that night. I cried because I was embarrassed, I cried because I knew the insurance wouldn't cover it, I cried because I had let myself get to that point in the first place. 

I decided to go anyway because it could hurt nothing more than my pocketbook. 

The rest is history, and if you are wondering the insurance would not cover my surgery. We ended up taking out a loan. If we were still in California, we would have never been in the place where we could afford that loan. If I never struggled with fertility, I would not have had surgery (plus when I lose weight if I can't get pregnant, I can live with that, at least it won't because I'm fat). If I never had months and months of leg pain, I would not have ended up in that office after all.

As cheesy as it sounds, I believe everything does happen for a reason, and everything was a cog in the machine that got me to the good place I am in now.


  1. Thanks for sharing! :) I love reading about your journey! Big Brother party soon!

  2. Oh B-so many hugs. I'm no stranger to the deep sadness of wanting a child and not being able to do so. My heart hurts for you. I'm so glad that you are happier, and in a better place now. That quote is beautiful, and it really hits home for me too. Here's to hoping that your fertility struggles will one day be a thing of the past as well. Much love to you dear friend!


Check notify to be emailed when I reply to your comment!