Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Broken Reflections


"This isn't it. This isn't how it's supposed to be. This isn't right." These are the words that ran through my head as I stood before my reflection and my world came crashing in around me. The thoughts that had been in the back of head for months but didn't dare acknowledge for fear of what it would mean, were hitting me like bullets as the realization was sinking in. "It didn't work." 

There are few moments that are burned into my memory quite like this. I remember this moment in all it's detail. I was in my parent's bedroom, in front of the mirror that hung above the heavy oak dresser that they've had all my life. It was around 4:00 in the afternoon on a fall day. I was barely 15. My clothes hung loosely on my 90 pound frame, the results of a very effective liquid diet. I had come in for something and caught sight of myself in the reflection. I leaned in closer to the mirror and inspected the aftermath of my surgery. The surgery that was going to make me beautiful. The surgery that would make all those insecurities disappear. The surgery that would stop all the teasing. The surgery that would help me function normally. The surgery that was supposed to fix my face....

I didn't dare acknowledge what was in the back of my mind because I thought it would have meant two things. 1. I was being ungrateful. 2. God doesn't love me or keep his promises to me. Here I was facing down what I feared the most...

I remember going to my mom and sobbing to her of the realization that I had, something I think she already knew but didn't want to acknowledge herself or bring up to me after watching me go through an excruciating recovery. She made an appointment to go back into the oral surgeon's office.

We walked in and were greeted by the same number 2 platinum blond Barbie dolls, the doctor had working for him. They proceeded to tell me how great I looked. That always made me feel so good before, because I wanted to believe these beautiful women. They must be telling the truth, But then it was always confusing because they seemed to be the only ones who noticed... I realized then they were paid to say this...

They were lying to me... And I hated them...

I diligently watched Extreme Make over, I knew how this was supposed to work. It was supposed to be this dramatic difference, my Cinderella moment! People were supposed to fawn over how amazing I looked. I went back to school, nothing.... I went back to church... nothing...No one noticed a single difference in me. The people who knew I had the surgery didn't make a big deal. Maybe, they did note some difference but I don't remember ever getting a huge reaction like I wanted. I think the only one who said anything was one of my beautiful cousins at a family party at my aunt and uncle's house. Yeah, I followed her around like a puppy. As if to say, "Please think I'm beautiful. Please tell me I'm beautiful!"

I liked this doctor. I trusted this doctor. He was very kind. And the fact that he was willing to do trade work with my parents so we could afford the surgery, we thought was really gracious. And the miracle that we needed because my parents couldn't afford it. But the painful truth is being kind doesn't mean you are qualified...

The doctor knew. The doctor knew he didn't do a good job. The doctor knew the surgery didn't work.  The doctor knew we weren't happy. The doctor knew I was not happy... But what I have painfully come to realize about some professionals is that they will never take full responsibility for something they did wrong, they will never admit it. So he talked around it. As if this sometimes happens. And gave us a simple solution to fix it... I was hopeful but deep down I knew it wasn't going to work. We left his office and that was the last time I ever saw him.

We went over to the Orthodontist's office who inspected my face, and confirmed what we already knew. The surgery didn't work. And the oral surgeon's solution of moving the rubber bands on my braces, to bring my receding jaw forward would only move my teeth. I felt like every confirming news was another bullet in my heart. I fought back the tears and put on a brave face. Not only that the did surgery not work but we were told it was the wrong surgery! I needed an upper and lower jaw surgery. And over the years, the surgery he did do to bring my receding jaw forward didn't hold and slid back....

Then the orthodontist dropped the real bomb...

He told us he knew when we first  told him who our surgeon was that he wasn't qualified to do this surgery.

I remember thinking, "If you knew why in the world didn't you say anything??!!!"

Our orthodontist was the one who told us I needed this surgery! Was the one who pressured us into getting it! Said if I didn't get it the braces needed to come off until I could get the surgery! Why in the world would he not say anything to us about this!? That the oral surgeon wasn't capable of doing this kind of surgery?!
 Now at 28, I can see maybe he was hoping he was wrong and was hoping for the best for me, just like the rest of us. Because he knew my parents were doing photography trade with him to pay for my surgery because that's how I was getting my braces. But at 15, I couldn't see that.  All I could see was that I was let down by two adults who I thought were supposed to know better. These men were  professionals  they were supposed to know how to do their jobs. They were supposed to help me. And they didn't....

The braces came off in what felt like utter defeat, And I was just supposed to move on from all this. Wondering what steps we needed to take next....

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I remember vividly my parents sitting me down and telling me they didn't have the money for the surgery. My heart was breaking, from all the times I came home crying from the junior high because I was being teased and told I was ugly... The panic attacks I had every time we neared the school, the times I faked being sick so I didn't have to go. Which caused such a vicious cycle of getting behind.. I felt so bad about myself I had times when I didn't want to live anymore...

I went to my room and laid on my bed and stared facing the wall with tears streaming down my face. And I poured out my heart in prayer saying, "Please...Please....Please....Please let me get this surgery! Please let me be beautiful... Please, please, please."
The most overwhelming feeling of comfort came over me, as if someone was holding me in their arms and I felt in my mind and my heart, "Everything will be ok, everything will work out. You will get this surgery." I had never felt such love and such comfort from the Spirit before, and I knew everything was going to work out.  Every night that week I went to bed feeling like someone was holding me. Everything was going to be alright. This was going to happen for me.

Now I felt confused... and even lied to. And I prayed and asked God probably the most sincerely I ever had in my life up to that point, "Why? Why did this happen? Why do I have to go through this? No one else I know has to go through this! Why me? Why didn't the surgery work?"

The answer I felt in my heart was that before I was born I had, "Specifically chosen this trial." 

I was very surprised by this answer and even humbled. Until, the next big emotional upset. And the years of seeing professionals who picked my face a part I would cry out, "Well I don't want this trial anymore!  Give me something else! "

Luckily, Heavenly Father is very patient with teenagers. (He's also very patient with 28 year olds! :) I didn't understand  and I really couldn't understand then at 15 just what that meant. Just what the Lord had in store for me and my life. I have been told repeatedly by the Spirit over the years that my, "Life is one of design and not of chance." And I believe with my whole heart that many of our trials and our refiners fire is so that, "the works of God should be made manifest" in us. (John 9:1-3)

This has been my journey. It has taken me years to come to love myself and accept myself despite what I thought was this "defect" with my face. And holding on to hope that this surgery was going to "fix" everything for me. That once I had it, then I would be free. But as I came closer to Heavenly Father and could just get a glimpse of how He saw me and that I was His daughter that's what changed things. More so then any surgery could.

I have been waiting for over 15 years for this oral reconstructive jaw surgery. And now as of tomorrow (March 16th), it's finally happening. It was brought about through a string of miracles, after years of hardship trying to make it happen. But the real miracle is that if it had never happened I would be okay. I know I would be. And some may ask then why have the surgery? Well, if it was completely for aesthetics I wouldn't do it. But there is actual medical reasons for having it. And really this is something that is important to me. It doesn't have the same come from as it used to. Especially after being married and even especially after having my baby. But really, it's been a gift from a most gracious loving Father and I know what's important to me is important to Him. Or else all these things wouldn't have fallen into place.

I am so extremely grateful for the hard roads that lead me here. Through it all I have been able to see God's hand in my life and know that He is and that He loves me and all His children. I am grateful for the love and support of so many who sacrificed for me to help my dreams come true.

And thank you for all those who want to take this journey with me! Who take the time to read this! I will be blogging my experiences of recovery and my experiences of being a new mommy and the things over these years to help me come to love myself, My hopes is that maybe something I have to say might help even one person know that they are loved and not forgotten! I have said this before but everything I went through would be worth if just to understand and help one person. I know that God not only has a plan for my life but everyone. None of these experiences will ever be wasted.