Jean Shopping at 5 Weeks Post-Op

I now find myself doing the exact same thing that pretty much everyone who has ever had a good tummy tuck does. I find myself saying "Yeah, those first two weeks were brutal, but now I'm so happy with my decision." See that? It IS just like childbirth. Those first couple of weeks I know, I mean, I KNOW, they were bad, but now... I'm that gal who is all butterflies and sunshine and lollipops and soft snuggly kittens. I'm that gal who cannot believe that this is her stomach in the mirror.

Now that most of the swelling has gone down, I'm recognizing that this new body of mine is substantially different than before. Yes, I still have the Ken doll-esque pubic bone and a titch of swelling above the incision, but I can now bend over and I don't have rolls of skin and fat that are nigh on impossible to mask.

I went shopping this week for jeans. Bear with me now, because this is the part where you'll hate me. I used to be a solid 12 or 14 in everything. Ever since I can remember. My Grad dress from high school was an 11. I have never been a truly petite girl. Never obese, but not a sylph-like model either. This week I bought a pair of jeans that were a size 8. I'm pretty sure the last time I was a size 8 was when I was 8. I went to a fairly chi-chi store and started trying things on - with the proviso that I didn't want anything terribly low-rise. Again, just because I can does NOT mean that I should.

They put me in a size 10 jeans. A $279 pair of size 10 jeans. I had entered the store and basically said, "Look, you may as well point me to the most expensive clothes you have in the store right now so that I can get them off my radar." And I tried on these $279 JEANS. They're JEANS! Are they sewn together with gold? Will I be able to leave them to my daughter in my will? NO - they are JEANS! But man did my ass look good in them. Was it $279 worth of good? I ain't so sure.

I then tried on a less expensive pair of chi-chi jeans (again $95 for JEANS!?!), and the gal said that the size 10 was too big. I looked at her in mystified confusion. Too big? But they were a size 10. I don't ever wear size 10s. I shook my head at her. "Oh no, that can't be right. I won't fit into an 8." Well she put her hand down the back of my waistband to show me that these pants were too big and then prodded my groin area to indicate that they also bunched in the front. Next thing I know, I'm walking out of the store having just purchased size 8 jeans. Me - voluptuous girl - the one with the boobs - wandering the streets shaking my head, unwilling to believe it. And terrified deep down that this is all just some crazy dream and I'll wake up with the elephant ear tummy once more.

So now I had these new chi-chi jeans for dress-up, but I still didn't have casual pants other than my yoga pants. So yesterday we made a trip to Peterborough to Value Village. For those of you who aren't Ontarians - Value Village is a 2nd hand clothing store. What you find there usually isn't vintage - unless you consider the 80s vintage - but it's great for finding good-quality used clothes. I got 2 pairs of casual jeans, a pair of capri jeans and casual pants - Rissa got jazz shoes and a dance dress all for under $65! Plus I found a vintage 1960s plaid wool jacket for $12.99! It's all creams and greens and yellows and oranges and it fit me!!

What you have to understand is that I was born in the wrong decade. I really should have been born in the late 1930s. I have the figure of someone who should be wearing clothes from the 50s and early 60s. I've got boobs and I've got hips and I've pretty much always had them. So when I'm clothes shopping if I find anything that is truly vintage I begin to salivate and desperately pray that I might be able to fit into it. I rarely fit into those clothes. Girls back in those decades were teeny. Those measurements of 36-24-36 were accurate probably until the 80s. Before the surgery my waist was 34 inches - I was more than accustomed to trying on Large & X-Large clothes. Occasionally in a good vintage shop I might find something, but more often than not, I just know that those really sweet dresses aren't going to fit me. I feel like this warrants a trip to Kensington Market in Toronto to see if I might now be able to get into those dresses.

I have dreams of vintage clothing shops. Seriously. I dream of a specific shop that has candy-coloured dresses as far as the eye can see. I pretty much dance on air when I find a good vintage dress. It truly is ridiculous how happy a confection of tulle and polyester can make me.

My energy level is much better. I've been walking every day now since the 4 week mark. I am up to about an hour and 20 minutes. It feels so good to move! However, I still have to remember that I will continue to get sore and uncomfortable. At Sweeney Todd on Wed I jumped around a bit and my tummy was not happy with me. I had to remember: No jumping! No jumping! Now that I am feeling better though, the bouncier part of my being wants to come back out. My stomach muscles cannot flex yet. I can sort of tighten them, but there's nothing strong underneath there yet. That will have to wait for the planks that I'll try to do after week 6. I've been trying some of the gentler Yoga movements on the Wii Fit, although so far all that I can really manage is the Warrior pose and the Sun Salutation. I've attempted other movements, but anything that has me balancing on one foot needs too much of my core to stabilize and my body starts to make me feel all wiggly and nervous inside. I'm sticking to the balance games. I've flown as a bird across the ocean - done Kung Fu - run the new obstacle course and had some snowball fights. After next Thursday I should be good to go for some strength training, but until then I'll be happy with my balance games and walking.

And now it's beautifully sunny and the autumn leaves are beckoning for my morning walk.

Cheers!
Heather