We’ve officially moved closer to Phoenix, and settling in here has come with some much-needed changes, including getting a new doctor to help manage the next phase of my health journey. After everything my body has been through since Remy’s birth, it’s been a huge relief to start fresh and speak with someone very experienced, supportive, and realistic about what comes next.
At my latest appointment, the new doctor talked me through what it will take to repair my 6 cm incisional hernia. It formed after my emergency C-section and has caused pain, discomfort, and a lot of limitations, especially as a parent. The good news is that it can still be done laparoscopically, which will hopefully make for a smoother recovery (though recovery will still be about 8 weeks). The surgical plan involves attaching mesh vertically from my belly button down to my pubic bone to reinforce the abdominal area and prevent further complications.
But as with everything, there’s a catch. For the surgery to have the best chance of long-term success, I need to reach a BMI of 35. That means I have to lose another 40 pounds before they will even consider scheduling the procedure. It’s tough to hear, but it’s also a clear goal. If I hit that milestone, I’ll be back to 200 pounds. That number holds a lot of meaning for me.
The last time I remember being around 200 pounds was probably back in 2010.
I was about 180 through most of college, and 150 in my senior year of high school. Things changed after that. I ended up in a long-term relationship where we both had a lot of unspoken pain and undiagnosed struggles, including disordered eating. We enabled each other’s worst habits and gradually grew farther from the versions of ourselves we once knew. Our lives together weren’t all bad, but our health definitely suffered, mentally and physically.
Now, more than a decade later, I’m doing this on my own terms and with a wholly different, emotionally intelligent partner who truly loves me. I want this hernia repair not just to heal my body, but to restore some of the mobility and confidence I’ve lost. I want to be able to lift my son without pain, play with him without feeling like my insides are going to rupture, and move through life without carrying the physical and emotional weight of the past.
It’s not going to be easy. Another surgery is the last thing I want. But I’m proud of the progress I’ve made so far, and I know that I can keep going. I’ll keep using every tool available to me, including Zepbound, healthy habits, and a whole lot of self-compassion (which, for me, is the hardest part).
Although it brings tears to my eyes with everything I’ve been through, I have to give myself some grace and remember this is just another chapter. I’m still writing it, one pound and one decision at a time.