This Is Me Overcoming Fear of Judgement

I was fat.

I had four children.

My tummy was stretched out.

I worked out. I lost weight. I ran a 10k race.

My tummy stayed stretched out.

I saved for years for a tummy tuck. I finally got the tummy tuck a month ago.

I am happy with the results.

All of my children were progressively larger. Not unhealthy, just long, heavy babies. My first was 8 lbs 5 oz. My fourth was 10 lbs 11 oz. They were all delivered by c-section, and the skin on my tummy just was not elastic enough to regain its shape. I ended up with a flap that hung below my waistline. Clothing myself was ridiculously hard because there are no pants made to fit that body. In addition, my abdominal muscles were bowed out so they did not contain my organs well, and I had a hernia above my belly button. That made shirts fit poorly too.

Imagine that you are invited to a party. Somehow you get the idea that it is a costume party. So you arrive in your Quasimoto costume only to realize that you are the only one in costume. All eyes are on you, and you can feel the judgement and ridicule. You walk around the party trying to cover the hunch on your back as best you can, but you are sure everyone around you is looking at it instead of at you.

Now imagine that you cannot leave that party. It is just life. You have to live it every day with that hunch on your back, and the feeling that everyone is staring. That was life for me for the last eight years. I had a never ending stream of “Oh! When are you due?,” to which I had to respond “I am not pregnant.” When I actually was pregnant, people regularly asked “Are you carrying twins?” It was an awful feeling, and it beat me down.

When my third child was about two years old I set out to lose weight, and things were going very well. Then I found out that I was pregnant yet again despite my husband’s vasectomy. I had to wait a year before I could start working on my body in earnest again. Once I got into the swing of things, the pounds melted off. I lost 70 pounds in nine months. I felt great, I looked better, and I could run eight miles straight.

But despite all that weight loss, my tummy was still rotund. Worse, as I dissolved the padding underneath, the skin sagged more, and that flap—oh that evil, disgusting flap—dropped lower and lower. It was clear that no amount of exercise would cause that skin to tighten back up. I had known this all along really. I eschewed buying new clothes and most other non-necessities. I saved every penny I could toward a tummy tuck. In June 2014, I finally had the money saved, and my husband and mother were ready to help with recovery.

Dr. Brian Dickenson in Newport Beach, CA did the work for me, and he did a wonderful job. Only a month later, I can walk proudly in public. My husband—who was always a supportive sweetheart—keeps remarking at how beautiful and sexy I am. More importantly, when I look in the mirror, I think I look hot. That is something I have never felt before. Pride in my body image.

I debated about sharing all of this. Some will think I am vain for spending the money on “weight loss surgery.” Some will think I am shallow for letting the shape of my body hold so much sway over my self esteem. Some will think I am selfish for sacrificing six weeks of my life on recovery—unable to pick up my children. But those people can think what they will. They are the same people who would ask me when I was due. They are the same people who would ask me if I was carrying twins. They are the same people who would glare at me and silently judge me for setting a bad health example for my children.

I love the results. My husband loves the results. There are many other parts of my life that are already improved. When I do yoga, I can perform a standing forward bend. When I run, I do not have to feel that flap beating against my legs. When my husband hugs me, he can pull me that much closer. It was worth the money, it was worth the pain, and it was worth the recovery time.