The first post.

Well, here it is. My first post. To say that a blog is embodied by the first post put a lot of pressure on the fact that I am starting this on advice from a very good friend of mine for the sole purpose of blogging about my gastric bypass surgery.

At first, I have to say I was excited and empowered by this idea. but as the months wear on, the wait is wearing on the reality just enough to make it just another thing. Like a birthday, or graduation from tech school. Nothing special. No need to be excited. Its just a thing.

I took the time to write said friend a nice long email about my life in general, I don't know, possibly a little vent without being a drag, but in her return she mentioned something that made me think:

"You know, I have been doing this blogging thing for over 10 years and in almost every case -- people who have children only blog about them until they are about 3 or 4. Then they stop. They start talking about themselves again. I realize this is because the children don't need them as much anymore. The adult can focus more on themselves again."

I never realized how true that was. I have been saddened by the fact that another child could possibly kill me, always saying how I wanted so many. Selfish of me I know, when there are no many deserving parents that cannot have their own and would be more than happy with just one...I think about this and wonder, is it that I really want a lot of babies to take care of, or is it that I am trying to find an excuse to ignore myself? Is this my comfort zone, to be salve to my children's needs and whims wishing I had more time to rediscover who I was before they were such a major part of my life?

I used to be so free to create and solve problems and to read and think and laugh and swear and indulge in the little things that used to define me, that made me unique and dare I say it? Even beautiful in my own way.

I started the journey to gastric bypass years ago, but gave it up because of my kids. I handed over my chance at self esteem to take care of my nephew, take care of my newborn daughter, help my son transition his life from being an only child to the middle child. They needed me more than I needed to fit into my high school jeans. I'm not saying this was a bad decision. I'm not saying I regret my babies--NEVER. I would do it again in a heartbeat. But I realize that I have given myself to them fully and lost a lot of what I was, the person that my husband fell in love with. The artist and the singer, the creative problem solver, quirky dresser, spur-of-the-moment-er now is 450 lbs, in a house dress all of the time, never leaves home, works from home to be accessible to her kids, eats what the kids want to eat, catches a shower, works, cleans and sleeps when they sleep. I have a dude haircut because its easy. I don't wear makeup because its easy. I don't dress up because it's easy to throw sweats on, I don't eat healthy because it's easier to open a can.

So, some burst of self came out one day and I decided to try again. I'm not sure what prompted it, but I am 3 months into the process with 3 months to go. Its like the fairy tale where the prince can marry the princess that can spin straw into gold IF he accomplishes milking a constipated elephant, runs naked through a patch of thorns and eats dirt while juggling overripe potatoes. I have to visit the cardio exercise lady, a psychologist, the surgeon, pulmonologist, undergo a sleep study, 3 weeks of weigh loss therapy group, another psychology visit, a general medical check up, dietitian, more cardio exercise talking, lose 40 lbs, 3 more weeks of weight loss therapy class and one last psychology before my fate hangs in the collective opinion of all these doctors and my surgeon before finally getting to go under the knife. When the psychologist asked me why I am doing it, I told him because I want to be around for my kids. Not my husband, not my friends, my kids.

The newness is wearing off. I no longer daydream about how beautiful I will be, how much energy I will have and how much more comfortable I will be in my own body. Instead I am back to meandering through each day changing diapers, doing dishes, homeschooling and mothering. GB seems so far away...

Anyway-I think my GB journal will not be as much GB as a journal of self discovery. I am ready for my life to change a little bit. I want to maintain my motherly status, but I need to make some time to be me, to be a wife and a lover to my husband. My conversations need to consist of more than what the kids did today. I need to find myself again, so my new body will have a personality to go with it.

I love my babies more than air, but I wonder if living and breathing for these kids makes me a good mom, or an obsessive loser? When they are grown, what will I do? What will I talk to Curtis about?

So here we go. Step one. Hi Jess. What are YOU going to do today?