Esperanza
About me. Wow. Where do I start. I am a wife, a mother, a student, a sister, an aunt, a best friend… All the while I hold a secret. I not happy with who I am. I am not happy in the skin I’m in. I smile to hide all the pain. I wasn’t always like this. Well… at least not to this extreme. Who is ever comfortable with who they are?
My weight has always been an issue for me. Not that I have always been over-weight. Growing up I was a bean pole. A bean pole with long legs (although I only stand five feet and five inches tall), large voluptuous breasts (double d’s since about 4th grade), and broad shoulders (that have always left me self-conscious). As I reached my young adulthood the shape stayed as more curves set in. I was now considered thick. Maybe I should rephrase that. I wasn’t your size two. So my eight/nine frame, along with my breasts, my legs and my hour glass figure told the world that I was a “big” girl. Always trying to keep my weight under control food restriction started early… very early… and has never really left.
When I left home to be out in the real world, that’s when my anorexia really unveiled itself. I was finally more in control. This added weight, that keep creeping up on me no matter what I did, really started to make its home with my body; particularly my stomach area, and that was really starting to get at me. How could this be happening when I barely ate in the first place?
So… I supposed, if I could eat any less than I already had been doing, I need to eat even less than that. Also, I still wasn’t regularly menstruating and I was almost 21. I’d had a period maybe 2 or 3 times tops since I was 14. The doctor had asked me when I went to the hospital after falling at school with stomach cramps so intense that I was screaming and in tears, “Do you want to have kids?”. Kids? No of course not I thought. I’m only 14. “Well don’t worry about it until you do.” As he gave me medicine for the pain and sent me on my way. I always thought, he’s a doctor, so he must be right… Right?
All I know is I was living on half a bagel and a can of soda a day for almost two years. Still felt fat. Huge. Over-weight. Morbidly obese. My fiancé claimed that I was way too skinny. But I never believed such things.
Married life came. My supportive best friend/husband helped with my anorexia and together we lead a healthy lifestyle of eating and habitually working out. But after a while I begun gaining weight from out of no where and no matter what I did, no matter how much I exercised, not matter how much I watched the sugar, and the calories, and the carbs, no matter how little I ate, it keep creeping up on me. I felt out of control. One minute I’d gain 20 and lose it. Gain 30 and lose it. Gain 40 and lose it. Gain 50 and lose it. This weight gain and lose came in one to two month increments. I was utterly frustrated. What was I doing? What was I doing wrong? We wanted to start a family after our year anniversary. But I still haven’t had a period. Or had I? I think I had. Once.
2002: PCOS. That’s what he said. The doctor told me that I had Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome. That explains it. The progressive weight gain (especially in my abdomen), the amenorrhea (no cycle’s), and the infertility among many, many, many other symptoms I would grow to learn. Oh… and my previous anorexia… a common outlet for those with PCOS.
Fast forward to the future. To now. To today. My doctors confirm that I am morbidly obese (due to my PCOS) for my size. Don’t you think I know this I ask myself. Hello? I’m trying hard to stop it. The weight gain. I work out, I watch what I eat (I’ve never been a big eater… I actually despise eating, if that makes any sense). I try to eat the right way and live a healthy lifestyle but no matter what I do, no matter what I do, not matter what I do, the weight keeps rising. Rising. Falling. Rising. Falling. Rising. Falling. I’m tired. I don’t know what else to do. What else can I do? Not to mention, my other symptoms are really starting to flame. One of the biggest, depression.
I’m at my wits end. And this… this surgery… This will be my savior.
