I wish I would have thought to start this a week sooner so I could have written as things happened, but I suppose being a few days off isn't too bad so we'll just play catch up.
The next day which was January 16, 2010 I hightailed it to the library to make my copies of the reports the doctor asked for and to print out my letter of introduction that had to include my height and weight. GULP. Nobody tells you that you turn into a moose when you are married and off the market. I have gained 50 pounds, yes 50 pounds since my hubby and I were married in October of 2007. Luckily, I was hopeful and decided to start the South Beach Diet earlier that week. So I gave her a brief summary of how I ended up need her services to begin with and included: I am 5'7 and 248 pounds (moose) and went to the post office. I mailed it off. This was the hard part: The Wait. Each day I went to the mailbox looking for an envelope from the Jackson Clinic. Now this is probably the norm for other people, you know going to the mailbox, but not for me. I avoid the mailbox as if it were the plague. I hate going to the mailbox and my husband can back me up on this one and I'm sure the mailman has noticed as well. The only thing that was keeping me sane was keeping busy with my grandma, chauffering the kids around, and church. I became restless on Thursday; keep in mind not even a week had passed and sent an email asking for a timeframe. On Friday morning, I jumped out of bed and checked my email anticipating an answer and found......NOTHING!! Errrr. So began another day without knowing if I would be able to have my tubes reversed and constantly checking my email with repeats of nothingness.
The next day, Saturday the 22nd, I went to the dreaded mailbox and inside the only thing in it was a white envelope with Jackson Clinic on it. I ran inside. The dog, Nessa, started jumping and squealing and all I'm trying to do is figure out what to do now. Should I wait for him to come home so we can do this together? No! I opened it:
I have reviewed your letter of introduction and the records of your tubal ligation. (Breathe) From the way that your tubal was done, it appears that you are an excellent candidate for a tubal reversal.
That was it!!! The tears came and joyful praise thanking God for this second chance. Nessa (the dog) and I danced and jumped together. I overcome with emotion and she barking trying to figure out what all the commotion was about. When I finally got it together I text my husband. His response? Good. Huh? Here I am dancing with the dog and all he says is Good and not in all CAPS with exclamation points either!!! Come to find out later he was driving the ambulance at the time so he was excused.
I put the letter on our fridge and then I saw it: * Need Photos* Doh!!
And so begins the diet....