Consult

"Boy, the work we could do on you!" was probably the most validating thing I could have heard coming from a man in his 60's while fondling my very soft, very wrinkled, very saggy belly. In fact, so much so, that I think before I go for surgery I will line up as many consults as I can just to hear just how badly I need a tummy tuck.

I look pregnant. I do. The only people to admit that to me are 1) the people who have asked me when I'm due, or if I know what I'm having and 2) the surgeon.

I'm grateful that my husband has not said anything, though there have been many a time that I have tried to get him to tell me what he really thinks of this belly of mine. I do have a friend (or three) who have asked me how to avoid what has become of my mid section while they go through their own pregnancies. It is hard to explain how I feel about this. It's kind of like an elephant in the room. If my friends, or husband, would truthfully tell me it's ugly, then what can they do about it? They can cheer me on in my work out routines, they can tell me they think it might be getting better. Maybe. But really the conversation would go, "Wow, that's ugly." The end. That would not be a good conversation.

I had thought about getting a tummy tuck. I had dreamed about it. There was no way we could pay for the tummy tuck, especially after starting my company. I reached out to some friends who have all gone through pregnancy to see if they had done any research on the topic, it was kind of decided they hadn't, or if they had, it was just through the Internet and no real visits to a surgeon.

I was working out. I had joined this class, Bodypump. I talked to my instructor afterwards to find out alternative exercises during the abs routine as crunches are not ideal for those with a diastasis recti. She talked to me about the exercises and then said, "Girl, you have got to get that fixed. I did." BINGO. I had somebody to talk about, somebody who looked great, still exercised, and knew what I was talking about! She had a surgeon, one who would bill insurance, and more importantly, one who she would recommend.

Weeks passed. I kept working out. I kept thinking about what could happen if I would just make the call and one day I did it. They asked if I would need a reminder call for my appt. and I said, "I've been thinking about this appt. for years. I will not forget!"

And that is how I found myself standing in a pink silk bathrobe (Chris thought it was pretty) with scaly winter skin and a floppy belly grinning from ear to ear as I listened about how he could cut me hip to hip, give me a new navel, cut off a ton of my skin, and send me home with drainage tubes.