Everyone has a moment where they realize they need to do something. Maybe it’s not fitting in an airplane seat, or having to go up a size in clothes.... I’m sure there has been a thread like this before but I don’t want to go back and search it!

Mine isn’t a moment but a series of moments. I saw a picture of myself and thought, is that what I really look like? The final straw was a trip to DC- I about DIED. All. The. Walking! And if you will recall the Southeast had a heat wave in May- yep we were there when it began. The worst was when we visited Mt Vernon on the way back. I was swollen, hot, cranky, and MISERABLE. I called and made the appointment for the consult right after we got back- it was late May 2019. Two months in and I am about to start all the requirements.... hoping for Surgery in Dec (only so that I won’t have to repay my deductible- but if not, it’s not the end of the world....)

Anyway, I’m attaching a horrifying picture but I have to preface it like any good fluffy girl would do- yes, I’m big, but the day this picture was taken was the second attempt at a swim meet that had been canceled the night before due to lightning. We had to be at the pool by 7 am after leaving the night before late and having kids hyped but from adrenaline because they couldn’t swim. I had on little makeup and I know that does nothing for my fat rolls, but still.... I look like the walking dead because I was. I usually try to keep my toes done and my hair did, but this is the worst of the worst for me! This is not the moment that made me call but the moment that confirmed my decision. Im approximately 255 here.

Someone assuming I was very far along in pregnancy (never been pregnant (also have an IUD)) and my pcp saying the words 'pre-diabetic' and 'mild sleep apnea' to me last yr.

I think mine was a slow build. I was *almost* 300lbs when I had the surgery. I had wanted the surgery back in 2015, but after not losing the required weight for my insurance at the time I lost interest. I just continually hated how I looked in the mirror and was frustrated at the lack of clothing options and my inability to keep pace with my friends when out and about. I also was embarrassed that I could barely reach to wipe after using the bathroom! Little things kept nagging at me like how I had to turn down going to an amusement park because I knew I couldn't fit on the roller coaster seats, or how I couldn't fly anywhere comfortably anymore. So one day last year I called my new insurance company and the process was a lot simpler than my previous insurer so I was like what the heck. It was definitely years of compounding negative thoughts and the inability to do things like a "normal" person that finally snapped.

(just putting this here so my embarrassing pic isn't the thumbnail of this thread lol)

7 hours ago, MeowAMR said:

(just putting this here so my embarrassing pic isn't the thumbnail of this thread lol)

Completely understand

This is a great question. Mine was Hawaii. I was the heaviest I had ever been. I remember needing a seat belt extender on the plane. Not fitting in my clothes I bought special for the trip. Walking a 15 min walk to avoid waiting for a tram and feeling like I would die the whole walk. Now I look back on pics and just shake my head.

Last time I thought about it, you needed a BMI of 40 and I was "only" 38. Also, the lap band was all the rage and I didn't like the sound of that. Fast Forward about 10 years and I was struggling as a member of TOPS (Taking Off Pounds Sensibly - just accountability and support, you do your own diet), and one of the group members, who was 80lbs more than me, announced that she was getting the gastric bypass and I thought "good for her". My mother, also a member with just a 20-lb post-menopausal weight issue, asked if I'd ever considered it. I thought about my 28-year struggle, how I'd lose 15 and gain 20, lose 30 and gain 40, etc...and thought of those adages, "If you keep doing what you've always done, you'll keep getting what you always got" and "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result". Well I didn't see the point in waiting until I was 300+ lbs, and that's where I was heading...plus my 49th birthday was just 2 weeks away...I was very clear in my choice.

In the 10-week interim between the decision and the surgery, there were countless reinforcement moments that I was doing the right thing. My 5yo niece pointing at an old picture of me at 160 and saying she wanted me to look like that. A 9hr flight to London on British Airways, notorious for their narrow seats. Having a nasty drunk homelessman in England shout "Hey you, Fat C***!" to my face. Walking a whole mile out of necessity for the first time in years and wishing melodramatically for the sweet embrace of death (in my defense, the walk was very up-hilly). Getting my third round of cortisone injections in my knees and finding they weren't doing a great job anymore.