Where I’m at right now: I have done SO MANY of consults now. I’ve learned that “high bmi“ is a thing. I’ve settled on the BBL/TT first. I’m shifting to the DR instead of Istanbul (was considering Mexico for a sec too). It’s expensive. Finding the right surgeon is a LOT.

So…just talking through where I’m at today.

I think I’ve settled on the fact that I’m going to go for the BBL & tummy tuck instead of getting the full mommy makeover. Finally. I’m starting with the bottom first, fixing my ab muscles and rebalancing my shape first before I do the top.

This process is way harder than you would think. It’s a lot. I’m so grateful this is happening but really overwhelmed from all the choices and decisions too. It’s like applying to college, job hunting and dating all in one.

I didn’t realize it would be so hard to find the particular kind of result I’m looking for. I didn’t even know I had a specific result I wanted until I started doing the research. And I’m even more surprised that it’s not so common.
The results I want are the dramatic curves. I have reasonable expectations and realize it will take work or maybe even multiple procedures. But I’m looking for the flat tummy, the heavily filled out hips, the lean back and the large booty with tons of projection that even flops a little when you shake it (lol) plus a proportionally smaller waist. I already have thick legs and will work on getting them stronger plus work on muscle definition in my arms.

My body and my mind are both shifting. There’s no perfect timing. Just me trying to get closer to the version I see in my head.

I’m actively slowing down and figuring myself out again. The transformation is real.

Did you know there’s a difference between high bmi plastic surgery and regular bmi plastic surgery? I didn’t. I figured that out when in consult after consult they were telling me I needed to get bariatric weightloss surgery like the gastric sleeve or bypass. WTF! It’s why so many people get weightloss gastric surgeries before or at the start of their journey.

I don’t want to get weightloss surgery. I want to be a thick girl but with a flatter stomach and fatter booty plus fix my back and neck problems and fixing my abdomen muscles will help do that.

To me it seems like so many in the industry just want easy cases and glossy results, not to actually transform real postpartum or high-BMI bodies.

I was initially all in on Istanbul but now I’m starting to shift toward other places like the Dominican Republic because I’m realizing the prices in the DR are similar AND I like the look that’s popular there..plus it’s a LOT closer to home for me which also means a cheaper flight and less time suffering on the plane on the way back. I was even considering Mexico for a second too. I’m learning there are different styles that come out of each country and different areas of the U.S. and really, the DR is what I want.

The Real Journey 🤍
Everyone shows the before and after.
But nobody shows what happens in between. The waiting, the second guessing, the work.
This is what a real transformation looks like.
Not just a new body. A rebuild from the inside out.

Can we talk about pain for a second? The kind that doesn’t go away, the kind you just learn to live with.

I’ve been in constant pain for years. I went to a chiropractor about a year ago. As soon as he looked at my X-rays he asked, “Are you in pain right now?” like he couldn’t believe I was even standing.

If I sit too long, I have to limp until everything “settles.” When I get out of bed, I have to move slowly and slip on my cloud slides right away just to take the pressure off my heel. Walking barefoot feels like stepping on knives. Turning my neck? Almost impossible. I use a special memory foam pillow because a regular one can throw my whole spine off for days.

My bones crack and I can’t move the way I used to. None of this came from an injury, or bad habits, or even age. I didn't used to be like this.
It came from pregnancy: from carrying and birthing my children naturally, and from my body never fully recovering afterward.

This pain is the part of postpartum that almost no one talks about.
And it’s one of the biggest reasons I’m doing this.

I’ve officially had five consultations now. Three with full feedback, and two that only followed up after collecting my basic information.
The quotes ranged wildly:
• Miami – $7,250
• South Florida – $11,000
• Beverly Hills – $20,000
• Istanbul, Turkey (All-Inclusive Package) – $6,000

What I’m learning quickly is that price doesn’t equal safety, and “luxury” doesn’t always mean experienced.
Cheaper isn’t always better, but expensive doesn’t guarantee anything either.

Two of the clinics sent quotes without reviewing photos. I’d like to think maybe my Instagram was enough, but it still reminded me how different each place’s process is.

For context, I’m quoting what my consultation coordinator informed me the all-inclusive offer includes:
“7 nights in a 5-star hotel, VIP airport–hotel–hospital transfers, pre-operative medical tests and consultations, hospital stay and medications, post-surgery garments and medical care, 24/7 translator and patient care assistance.”

One Istanbul surgeon mentioned my BMI was too high for a safe mommy makeover and recommended a gastric sleeve first.
That was eye opening and a little off for me, especially because I’ve seen many women with higher BMIs get approved for the same procedures just with different results (often larger BBLs).

Another consultation suggested that instead of doing everything at once, I should stagger the surgeries. Starting with the tummy tuck and BBL first, then moving on to the breast lift and implants later.

At first, I was set on doing the full mommy makeover all at once. But now, after hearing multiple professional opinions, I think I might shift my strategy.
My abdomen and core need to be repaired before anything else. That sagging skin and muscle separation affect how my whole body carries itself, even my posture and back pain.

So my current plan:
Phase 1: Tummy tuck + BBL to restore shape and balance.
Phase 2: Breast lift + implants once I’ve fully healed.

It feels more sustainable and honestly, more respectful of what my body has already been through. This journey isn’t just cosmetic; it’s about rebuilding, in the right order.

I’ve stopped trying to get back to her. The old version of me. The one with abs and no back pain, who thought “strong” meant hard edges and no softness.

Now I’m learning what strong looks like here.
Now.

In stretch marks.
In slower mornings.
In saying no.

This is my current energy: less comeback, more becoming.
I’ve absolutely gone backwards. But now it’s about moving forward again, differently this time.

Some days I hate how soft I’ve become. Other days I see a woman rebuilding from the ground up.

I’ve never felt this close to it all. To the body, to the want. I’ve already found and saved more surgeons than I ever thought I would. I’ve spoken with clinics across the country and internationally, several consultations deep.
And every time I put down the phone, it feels less like vanity and more like reclamation.

I don’t need to bounce back. I just need to keep going.

 

I’ve always been told I take up too much space..my body, my voice, my chaos.
This is my image. And my imaginary.

My imagination? To be sculpted. Rebuilt.
To walk into a room like a cathedral of flesh.

People stare.
Give them something holy.

✝️🖤

I finally sent my consultation photos to the two clinics I’ve been in contact with. I’m curious to see what they recommend. I mainly want a realistic baseline of what I actually need, and what it’s going to cost.

Two other clinics asked for my information first and said they’d follow up soon.

My very first consultation was with a Beverly Hills surgeon who helped me understand that my goals were more complex than I thought. I kept focusing on the BBL, but he explained that I’d likely need a combination of procedures. Including a tummy tuck, and possibly implants for both the breasts and butt to restore overall proportion and support. It was eye-opening to hear it laid out that way.

I’m not hiding under sweatshirts or pretending saggy is empowering.
This isn’t for attention. It's a correction.
This belly carried life. Now it’s left with loose skin, stretch marks, and a deflated stomach.

I cried on camera. Fully humiliated. But this is me trying to do something about it. The start of the rebuild. 

🪞 Two pregnancies taught me more about breaking than any heartbreak ever could. Muscles tore. Skin thinned. My posture shifted. Motherhood rearranges you in ways no gym or green juice can fix.

But it's proof I survived. That I’m ready for something new. Not shrinking back, but building what I actually want.

Wanting a mommy makeover doesn’t make me weak.
Working for one doesn’t make me desperate.
It makes me a mother who’s tired of hiding.
It makes me a woman with a vision and no time to waste.

I'm getting call backs. Which is exciting and new!
I’ve spoken with clinics in Istanbul, Florida, Mexico, Beverly Hills, and one local.

Right now, I’m in contact with a clinic in Istanbul that offers an all-inclusive experience: airport pickup, hotel stay, post-op care, and more. It almost feels like booking a vacation, except it’s one that completely changes your body.

A few of the surgeons have already asked me to send photos for assessment before setting up a formal consultation. Taking those pictures is wild. Standing there trying to hold neutral posture, showing angles I usually hide. But it’s also kind of freeing. It’s not about filters or posing anymore; it’s about being honest about what needs healing.

I’m learning how different every clinic’s process is. Some want a full body video, others just a few clear photos. Some call right away. Others text through WhatsApp like it’s nothing.

It’s surreal to finally be in these conversations after years of thinking and talking about it. For the first time, it feels real. Like something that’s going to happen, not just something I talk about.

I have officially reached out to a few different clinics and doctors. At the same time I have been seriously researching surgeons and options (BBL, tummy tuck, muscle repair, etc).

As for who and where, I’ve been open to speaking with anyone and everyone. Local surgeons, Beverly Hills names, even international clinics in Istanbul and Mexico. In total I have had five doctors and clinics reach out to me and I have reached out to two. So far in my experience international clinics ask to operate through Whatsapp or email initally.

Right now, I am still mainly looking for a mommy makeover with a focus on the tummy tuck with muscle repair. Plus a breast lift, and yes with implants. An addition of a BBL and/or lipo 360 would be ideal, but I've read that you can't get a tummy tuck and a BBL at the same time because you won't be able to sit or lay. I would though!

My process includes writing down names, comparing prices, reading reviews like it’s homework. I’m learning the difference between surgeons who create a waist and those who just remove fat. Between clinics that care about healing and ones that care about volume.

They call it a mommy makeover like it’s just a package deal at a spa. Like I didn’t break my body twice, tear myself open to bring life into this world. Like my skin didn’t sag, my waist didn’t vanish, my hips didn’t betray me.

Sometimes I catch myself holding my stomach like I’m still pregnant. Not with a baby. With the ghost of the girl I used to be.

I used to have a waist that pulled eyes across the room. Now I have two children who pull me out of bed at 6 a.m. I love them. I’d die for them. I still also miss me.

No one talks about how motherhood makes you disappear. Your body, your identity, your hours. Gone. And the world does not clap for your sacrifice.

I don’t want to be congratulated for martyrdom. I want more for myself so I can be better for those around me. To feel like I’m even worthy of being desired or obsessed over. Or even just worthy of worshiping myself again.

So no, I didn’t lose myself. I’m fighting to get her back.
It isn’t a makeover. It’s a resurrection
A hand pulling me out of the grave.

They never tell you how lonely postpartum feels. How your body changes overnight and suddenly you don’t recognize yourself, not in the mirror, not in your clothes, not even in bed. That’s why I won’t ever feel like I can relax again until I get this surgery. Because it’s not just a surgery it’s survival. It’s me accepting that I'm allowed to exist again.
🖤

I started writing a list. Not of surgeries or things to buy, but of pieces of me I want back. 

Posture. Confidence. Skin that glows again. The feeling of walking into a room and not shrinking. 

I keep adding to it, like little prayers. Is that how every transformation begins? With a list of what we refuse to lose?

🕯️ #mommymakeoverjourney

Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to share things like this?
How down I get on myself. How insecure I feel about my body… the way I look right now.

Some girls can just let it all hang out. And constantly. There are all kinds.
But for me… it’s not easy.

I’ve been having to come to terms with a lot. And honestly? I’m still struggling.

I scroll through old photos sometimes. Skinny me. Carefree me. Untouched by babies, chaos, by life. Then I look in the mirror today, and it feels like a different person is staring back. Stretch marks. Belly that sags too low. Hips that aren’t what they used to be. A body that tells a story I didn’t always want to tell.

Still, there’s something here that I’m learning. The way some women want to see the unpolished truth. The way some men pay attention to what’s real.

The big idea is not flawlessness. Not to be brave all the time. But honesty. Even when it hurts. Even when it’s messy. Even when I’m still figuring it out.

I lit a candle tonight in the bathroom, sat on the edge of the tub, and looked at the body that built two humans.

The softness. The stretch. The deflation.

It used to make me want to crawl out of my own skin.
Now? I see it as motivation. Everything feels paused. Like my body's buffering.  
A half-finished marble statue, waiting for a million-dollar sculptor.

I don’t want to erase the story.
I want the version of me that worships myself for it.

A body that feels like I do.

I’m building. 

I’ve been dreaming about a full mommy makeover for years. For me, this isn’t just about body or aesthetics. It's a medical necessity, a chance to rebuild, and a full life reinvention.
I’m ready. Prepared. People keep asking when it's happening. I keep saying soon. But soon feels like forever. 

  

I'm trying to love myself now, but I'm too aware of what's coming. Still becoming. Halfway to myself. A woman balancing motherhood, chaos, and ambition while chasing a dream most wouldn’t even dare to voice. I'm just in-between versions of myself.

💉 Targeted Areas for Surgical or Medspa Correction (Beginning Version)

 • Tummy tuck (abdominoplasty) — to repair diastasis recti, remove loose skin, tighten fascia 

 • Liposuction — to contour and rebalance after structural correction 

 • BBL (Brazilian Butt Lift) — to restore curves and balance hip elevation 

 • Breast lift + augmentation (mommy makeover) — to correct sagging and restore proportion 

 • Shoulder / neck posture therapy (structural rehab) 

 • Botox / filler / medspa — for skin, rejuvenation, and minor corrections 

 • Hormonal optimization (BHRT, etc.) — to support energy, metabolism, and mood

Why I need a Mommy Makeover
(and Why It’s Actually Feminism)

I never thought I’d be the girl sharing her story on the internet. Showing her stretch marks. Revealing the body she tries so hard to hide.
But here we are. And honestly? Owning it feels like one of the most honest things I have ever done.

It’s not just about the body. It's somewhere beyond image. 
It’s about taking control of my own narrative, my own transformation, my own self.  

I'm past validation.
I need results.
What am I actually trying to repair?
My full body audit? Where I'm starting from and what I'm actually trying to address?

This is the part that’s hardest to write. Not because I don’t know what’s wrong (I do) but because saying it all out loud makes it real.

I have multiple herniated discs, both in my neck and lower back. Every disc in my cervical spine is completely herniated into a complete cervical kyphosis. The three lowest discs in my lumbar spine are slipped. Making simple things like sitting too long or lifting my kids feel impossible some days. My neck leans slightly to the right, my right hip sits higher, and it throws off everything from my shoulder to my knee. The pain isn’t the normal kind. It’s the kind that lingers, that stabs deep inside the bones.

My core never came back after pregnancy. The diastasis recti, the split in my abdomen, left me with a stomach that hangs forward. The fascia (the internal structure that’s supposed to hold everything together) feels stretched and torn.

And it’s not just my core. My stomach skin sags, pulling down my whole posture. My boobs have lost their shape and volume, sitting lower, heavier, like they belong to someone older than me. My glutes have flattened, my hips feel uneven, and even when I train consistently, it’s like the muscle can’t find its form again.

It’s wild how physical imbalance becomes emotional. I don’t fully recognize my body anymore. Not in my reflection, not in photos, not even in clothes. I keep adjusting myself, hiding angles, pretending it’s fine. But it’s not.

This isn’t a self-hate thing. It’s a self-honesty thing. I want my body back (or maybe forward) to something that feels aligned, functional, and mine.

So this is my baseline. This is everything I’m starting from: the ripped fascia, separated abs, sagging skin, damaged spine, elevated hip, damaged shoulder, sagging boobs, and dragging stomach that weigh down more than just my posture.

It’s not pretty, but it’s the truth. And this is where my real transformation begins.

 

skybar @ hilton sf union square

I tried.
I wore the shapewear.
I posed from the right angles.
I drank the greens, did the planks, swallowed the shame.

But under every outfit was a body I didn’t recognize.
And a voice in my head whispering, “This isn’t you.”

Over the last few months, I’ve genuinely put in a conscious effort to repair what’s been wrong with me naturally. I even used to be a certified personal trainer, which was a huge accomplishment for me after struggling with my weight for years. I always believed that with enough determination and discipline, anyone could change their body. I did once, I lost over 100 pounds.

But post-pregnancies, I’m like… yeah, right. My body is just different now.

I tried everything. YouTube tutorials on repairing diastasis recti, avoiding sit-ups and twisting movements that made my abs dome, signing up for the gym again and trying to do what I used to love: weight training, cardio, rowing machines, booty bands, kickbacks, hip thrusts, tension bands, the works. I even started Atkins 40.

I managed to lose a little bit of weight, but then completely stalled out. I couldn’t get below 240 for anything. And the pain after workouts wasn’t the normal sore kind. It was deep, nerve-type pain that lingered for days. Most of all, none of it was fixing the core issue: the split in my abdomen, the sagging skin, or the daily discomfort.

Even Dr. Brent Moelleken, a board-certified plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills, says it plainly:

“No amount of exercise can tighten ripped fascia, join separated muscles, or remove loose skin.”

For me, it’s not just about how I look, it’s structural. Two pregnancies, both natural births, left me with diastasis recti and a stomach that quite literally pulls downward. My abs are separated, my posture collapsed, and my spine has never fully recovered. I have multiple slipped discs from my neck down to my lower back, one hip that sits higher than the other, and a shoulder that doesn’t move the way it used to. My boobs and stomach both sag forward, dragging my whole frame down with them.

This is why I'm finally considering surgery.
It’s not vanity, it’s anatomy. My core can’t hold me up the way it’s supposed to anymore.

Somewhere between acceptance and ambition, I realized, this isn’t about chasing perfect.
It’s about finally feeling like myself again.

Some days I catch myself in the mirror and see ten different girls layered on top of each other.
The teenager who starved herself.
The twenty-year-old who thought approval was love.
The mother who stretched and split and wondered if her body would ever feel like hers again.

And then…there’s the one writing this right now.
She’s the scariest, because she’s the most alive.
She just wants her truth to be seen.

The more I research, the more I feel like I already live there, in my after.
I’ve been looking into doctors, even international ones in Turkey, Mexico, Columbia, the Dominican Republic and more. Willing to do whatever it takes. Comparing prices, techniques, and recovery stories has become part of my routine. My mindset has shifted pretty quickly now that I've decided I'm really doing something about this. I’m already imagining recovery days, what clothes I’ll wear, even how my posture would change. It doesn’t feel like wishful thinking anymore, it feels like planning.

Some mornings, I avoid mirrors. 

Not because I hate what I see, but because I don’t recognize her. The stretch of skin, the curve of my stomach, the tired eyes. 

I tell myself I should be grateful. Two babies. A good life. 

But I’m still ready to accept new blessings. It could always be better too.

This isn’t vanity. It’s reclamation. 

The slow, quiet decision to stop disappearing inside my own body.

#mommymakeoverdiaries

I’m not just talking about surgery. I’m talking about putting myself back together. It’s like I’m living inside a before photo. My body feels like a waiting room. 

After two babies, my this feels like a memory of someone else’s. I want to feel like me again. Regain confidence. Maybe be a little dangerous. I keep catching myself touching the parts I want gone. 

It’s not just about looking hot (though, that doesn’t hurt). It’s about finally recognizing the woman in the mirror, not the girl who’s been surviving.

This is the messy part of the story...the before. The part no one usually shares. They usually only share the “before” once they have the “after.” I don’t have the polished after yet, just the drive, the plans, and the proof that I’m not afraid to want more. 

💉

The body remembers everything. Every baby kick, every sleepless night, every time I said “I’m fine.”

I’ve learned healing doesn’t mean pretending it never happened.

Some days, I feel stronger. Other days, I just feel the weight of it all.
Either way, I’m still showing up.

I’ve decided this is something I really want to do and I’m finally fully committed.

It’s taken me a long time to get to this point. I’ve gone back and forth, talked myself out of it, convinced myself I could “fix it naturally,” or that maybe I just needed to accept the changes. But deep down, I’ve known this is something I’ve wanted for years.

For me, it isn’t about trying to look perfect, it’s about feeling at home in my body again. After pregnancy, my shape changed in ways I could never really get back on my own. And after a lot of research, soul-searching, and saving, I’m ready to start this journey toward a mommy makeover.

Right now I’m researching surgeons, recovery timelines, and what kind of results feel the most natural for my frame. I want to share all of it. Not just the glossy after photos, but the waiting, the doubt, the small milestones, and the real recovery that no one talks about enough.

This is my starting point. The decision. The “before.”

#mommymakeoverdiaries #transformation #postpartumrecovery

For the longest time, I thought I just wanted a boob job.
Since I was a teenager, I hated having small boobs. Especially because every woman in my family seemed to be blessed with larger chests. I was the exception, left behind, teased, and constantly aware of what I didn’t have. Even my boyfriends at the time tried to “make me feel better” about it. I still remember one saying, “More than a handful’s too much.” I laughed it off, but it stayed with me.

Then, for the longest time, I thought I just wanted a BBL. 

Big booties were in, and suddenly I was being compared to women with curves in all the places I didn’t have them. When I lost weight and got down to 100 pounds (after losing more than 100 pounds), it was at the exact time when hourglass shapes and peach booties were trending. Even though I had worked so hard after dealing with years of being overweight, I still didn’t “fit.” I remember another guy telling me I was “proportional” as if being disproportional would’ve made me more desirable. That one stung, too. 

After having babies, everything changed again. That was when I realized that my body wasn’t mine anymore.

And honestly, I’ve never stopped talking about surgery since. The conversation kept evolving from a boob job, to a BBL, to a tummy tuck until I realized I needed all of it. My pregnancies were high-risk, both because of how much fluid my body held and how drastically it changed me. My stomach stretched beyond what skin can forgive. My breasts swelled and deflated twice over. My hips shifted. My posture collapsed. I’ve been in physical pain and trying to feel “normal” ever since. 

My truth: surgery has become this constant want and need in my life. I’ve always known I’d do this one day.

Not out of vanity, but out of wanting to come back home to myself. It’s a resurrection. What I’ve learned recently is that this collection of procedures—breast augmentation, BBL, tummy tuck—is called a Mommy Makeover. 

So far from just wanting a boob job in high school. 

It’s become something deeper: a full-circle return to the woman I’ve always been becoming. I don’t want to hate myself in every photo. I want to feel like I finally caught up to who I see in my head.

I started this page as a metric-free space to share my story, no likes, no comments, no algorithms. 

Just me. My journey. Unfiltered. 

Not perfect. Not polished. 

Just honest. 

This is the beginning.