So I've been thinking this week about when I became "fat". My decision is my whole life. At least this is my perception, whether it is true or not.
My earliest memory of weight being an issue is in elementary school. I went to a K-8 elementary school and was in 6th grade before I heard from other children that I was fat. Looking back, I am pretty sure it was because the boy like me, but really, how was I to know that. Everyone looked like I did. I never really dwelled on it and went on with life.
In high school, I was never as thin as my friends, or at lest some of them. But was still seen as fat. Again, I had enough confidence in myself that I didn't really worry about it. I had friends, boyfriends, etc., and didn't have people making fun of me. I saw what others saw and never thought again about it. My prom dress was a size 9. Really?!? I wish I was that "fat" now.
Now summers were a different matter. I visited my father and step-mother one summer and she was pregnant. Well I ate when she ate and gained about 25 pounds. I lost that when I went back to school, eating very little. I was never one to throw up and I loved to eat, so bulimia and anorexia were out of the question.
Fast forward to college. I was very active, not working out, but walking all over campus all day long. Too worried about classes, my degree, and working to worry about eating too much.
Over the years I have slowly put on weight. Then enter husband and the desire to want children. (See previous post)
So here I am 16,135 days old and 4 days until I start my new life.
I am exctied, nervous, thrilled, worried, and uncertain of the future. I know I have support from my doctor's office, group therapy (which I haven't started yet), family, friends, and blogger friends. So far, it's been nerve racking the closer it gets to the day of surgery. I keep thinking things through to an extreme.
Today I am off to get chewable and/or liquid vitamins for post-surgery. Also going to start packing my bag for the hospital.