The first step is always the hardest...or so I've heard

I have always been a small person. I was a very healthy, in shape girl growing up. Never had any trouble with my weight. After I had Liz I went right back to my prebaby shape...one of the perks of having a baby when you're only 17. After Jack was born, same thing. Skinny girl. Then, almost overnight, I blew up. What happened? I have no idea. Boredom? Maybe. Stress? Probably. I began eating to cover up other things going on I think. I joined a gym, went for a year, then dropped. I had gone through a pretty rough breakup at the time and just didn't feel that great about myself anymore.

I met my husband in 2005, married him in 2006, and now have a beautiful family. I don't feel that great though. I went to a weight loss clinic, took some pills, lost 20lbs. Woo! Then gained it all back. Blah! Worked out here and there. Starved myself, got depressed about it and then got back on the food train. I went to the doctor in February and had tons of tests run to make sure there was nothing really wrong with me. Blood pressure? Check! Diabetes? Nope! Thyroid problem? Nope! I'm health as a horse...except for the weight.

I decided to do some research on weight loss surgery. I felt like I just could not do it by myself. I finally made the call and got in with the surgical place down here. Saw a nutritionist who told me things I already knew...I eat too much. Duh. Met with the surgeon who said I was a perfect candidate for the procedure, which did I want? Gastric Bypass or Lap Band? Isn't that like saying, cream or sugar? I chose Lap Band. Here we go...

I met all the criteria in the doctor's office. Sent my insurance through. All good. Until the letter came that my BMI isn't high enough. What? How can that be? They said it was in the office. Not according to the insurance though. Called the nurse, explained what I had read and her response was, some of our patients just go ahead and eat more fattening foods to gain the weight to meet the criteria. I was a little mortified at that. I told her thanks, but no thanks. I was so nervous about the procedure and thought maybe this was a sign from God Himself telling me to get off my fat ass and do it myself.

This will be my story...