On December 8, 2025, I had a successful VSG bariatric surgery, and I am officially 6 weeks into healing. It still feels surreal to write that.
As my body continues to adjust, I am staying on soft foods for another week, at least. My laparoscopic incisions are healing really well, something I feel deeply grateful for every single day. What we did not expect, however, was what my surgeon found once they were inside. Despite a normal pre-surgery endoscopy, they discovered a large hiatal hernia. A significant portion of my stomach had pushed up through my diaphragm into my chest, through a space that should only allow my esophagus. It is wild, and honestly a little scary, to think about in hindsight.
Once the hernia was identified, they repaired it by stitching what is essentially a supportive collar into my diaphragm, then carefully moved my stomach back into its proper place. After that, they removed about 80 percent of my stomach, shaping what remained into a narrow banana shape instead of a pouch. It is seriously incredible what modern medicine can do.
That repair plays a big role in how eating feels now. Because the hiatal hernia repair sits right behind my breastbone, I feel extra pressure and pain there if I eat too quickly, which can also be related to the smaller stomach itself. This has been the biggest challenge so far. I have to eat so slowly, chew thoroughly, and take breaks between bites, even with soft foods and purees. The good news is that this is something I can actively manage. Eating too fast is correctable. I use timers on my Fitbit or phone to pace myself, and that structure has helped me build better habits and tune in more closely to my body and fullness cues.
That need for slowness becomes even more apparent when it comes to portion size. Another big adjustment has been just how little my stomach can handle right now. At this stage, I can usually eat only 1 ounce of food at a time. Between the tiny bites, the mini spoons, and the required pauses, it can take a full half hour to get through that small amount. Eating is slow, intentional, and honestly a bit humbling. On an average day, I am landing around 500 calories, over 60 grams of protein, and about 55 ounces of fluids. Ideally, I should be closer to 64 ounces of water, but my stomach fills up so quickly that even liquids have to be sipped slowly. It can feel frustrating at times, but I keep reminding myself that this phase is temporary, a part of the healing process, and prepping me for my total lifestyle overhaul. Every day is about learning my new limits, listening to my body, and trusting that it will continue to adapt with time.
With all of that in mind, I feel very fortunate that this has been the hardest part of my recovery so far. Everyone heals differently, and I do not take that for granted.
Alongside the physical healing, I am also doing weekly therapy, and that has become just as important to this journey. Some sessions begin with me thinking, I do not even know what we are going to talk about today, and part of me wonders if it is a waste of time. Then somehow, by the end of the hour, I am crying over something I truly thought I was past. Talking things through helps more than I ever thought it would. My therapist slows me down, gives me a breathing technique, and asks me to sit with what I am feeling, why it came up, and whether I want to take any action because of it. This experience has been very different from my other therapy experiences, before I was a mom and before I went through all that surgery trauma. This therapist challenges me in ways that feel supportive instead of dismissive. She does not interrupt me or make me feel wrong for having emotions. She gently pushes me outside my comfort zone while still making me feel safe, and that balance has been incredibly healing.
Tracking my progress has also helped me stay grounded through all of this. On the day of surgery, I weighed 223 pounds. Today, the scale read 203! We recently got a new digital scale at home that syncs with my Baritastic app, which has been a total game-changer. I track my food, measurements, and yes, even bowel movements. It might sound silly, but it has been incredibly helpful for staying consistent, mindful, and aware during recovery. Honestly, I will probably keep using it long after this phase ends.
Looking ahead, my next major medical goal is my incisional C-section hernia repair. To qualify, I need to reach a BMI of 35, which for me is about 197 pounds. I am well on my way, and that feels both exciting and intimidating. The idea of another surgery so soon is scary, especially on days when I cannot sit comfortably with Remy or play with him without pain. I have to remind myself to take things very slowly so I do not create new hernias or setbacks. This part of the journey requires a lot of grace, and I am still learning how to give that to myself.
Emotionally, one of the biggest milestones recently happened in my closet. I finally donated clothes I have been holding onto for years that no longer fit me. The biggest non-scale victory came when I tried on one of Marc’s men’s size medium shirts, and it fit. Not barely. It fit nicely. That moment stopped me in my tracks.
I still struggle with body dysmorphia. I have loose skin, especially around my arms, and I have been dealing with rashes near my armpits because of it. None of this is perfect or easy. But for the first time in a long time, I can truly see the light at the end of the tunnel.
This has been more than 2 years of physical healing, emotional processing, and rebuilding trust in my body after trauma. I am not finished yet, but I am closer than I have ever been. And that finally feels like hope.