449 days and 148.2 lbs

 Today is a milestone. nearly 15 months post-surgery I have surpassed my 1/2 weight goal. I have lost an entire person's weight worth of excess weight. When I started on this journey in January of 2023 I just wanted to walk. I wanted to walk to get my groceries in Walmart without feeling like I was dying. Carrying around nearly 300 lbs of weight was so scary. I could feel my joints rubbing. I could feel myself getting winded walking up the four steps to our front door. I could feel myself holding my breath when stepping up on the step ladder and genuinely worrying about if it would hold my weight. I was worried about becoming unbalanced and falling. At not yet 42 I had the mobility challenges of people twice my age. My blood pressure was fine. I didn't even qualify as having pre-diabetes. I was "healthy" but I was terrifyingly obese. Nothing fit my very petite 5'3" frame. I was miserable. 

At various points, I wanted to give up. The Vicar and those closest knew I wanted to just eat during that 2-week liquid diet stage. It was some of the lowest lows. This entire process has been one of the hardest things I've ever done in my entire life. I remember calling my dear friend and VSG bestie and telling her this was all horseshit. That I was okay with being overweight and that I was an emotional mess. She listened, told me that everything I was feeling was valid, but also kept reminding me that the life and freedom that was coming was worth every ounce of this, done twice. Lacey, you were so fucking right. I literally would not have had the courage to do this, the fortitude to stick with it, and the gratefulness to be on this side of it, without you. 

The next year would prove to not be easy either. Counseling to heal my relationship with food. Some tough conversations with dieticians, psychiatrists, and honestly, many many with God about how to make this successful. Shear will and a deep and true dislike of vomit (IYKYK how I feel about vomit). Perforated bowel, NPO weeks, diverticulitis, hospitalizations, enough antibiotics for farm animals, and midnight chats with God that if He wanted to take me, I was ready. Learning how to consistently make good nutrition choices. Mourning some of the foods that gave me comfort, reminded me of my childhood, and learning that I can celebrate in many different ways. 

One thing that has been so wild has been the clarity around choices of all sorts during this journey. Before so much of my life was lived in a way that covered pain, sorrow, boredom, joy, and every other emotion with food. If you know me, you know my feelings (of all kinds) often tasted like Mexican martinis and chips and queso. I've learned that one Mexican martini and a handful of queso and chips is plenty. Physically limiting my intake was the only way. My brain and belly required a rewire. And it was the very best decision for me. It will always be the best health-related decision I've made. 

So to myself, today, I say, Jeri, I'm so freaking proud of you. You did it. Surpassed every goal you set for yourself. You run, dance, sing, and enjoy your life. You will always want to eat the things you know you can't and that's ok. You make good decisions. One that improve your life. You demonstrate self-love to the highest levels to your kids. You demonstrate and live out #LYMI to yourself and because you do that, you can extend that love to others. Keep making the next right choice. Keep being tremendously proud of what you've accomplished. Don't ever not celebrate it, even if you are the only one celebrating. It took 42 years to get to the old you, you've got another 41 celebrating this new one, at least! Jeri, I love you to the ends of the earth. Go forth and love others.