It’s been four weeks since my explant. I feel great with absolutely no regrets. I feel totally at peace with my body and my decision. I can breath.
The smaller and lighter scars are a lot less noticeable. They still exist, but not nearly as much, and I’m okay with them.
They show the life that I’ve lived. They’re on my chest over my heart, where I will forever be reminded of my journey and ultimately my strength.
They’re the only permanent markings I have. They’re my tattoos.
It’s been a pretty crazy few weeks, I don’t even know where to start. I’ve been trying to heal my body after surgery, while being a mom, and trying to run my businesses, while also trying to deal with personal family affairs.
Like all surgeries, I couldn’t eat or drink the morning of, nothing after midnight. I was scheduled to arrive at North York General Hospital for breast implant removal at 8 am.
That morning I took a lorazapan, I wrapped myself in a huge soft blanket and my assistant dropped me off. I went in with the huge blanket and checked in.
The process was actually really odd, especially alone. I did the intake form, got my surgery gown on and put my belongings in a locker, including the diamond earrings I had forgotten to remove before leaving the house.
TIPS BEFORE SURGERY
- Take all off jewelry and leave it at home.
- Don’t eat or drink anything as per the instructions from your doctor
- Request lorazapan to calm you the morning of your surgery.
- Take a phone and phone charger.
- Take your own comfy socks and blanket.
- Take a warm zip up sweater and cozy pants.
- Wear no makeup or skin cream.
- Go with bare finger nails.
- Take your health care and emergency contact info
I sat in the day surgery room with others who were awaiting surgery for all different reasons. Some were alone, some were old, some were with loved ones.
It was kind of crazy to sit and observe. All of these people are going in for surgery. Something so serious and major to regular people, can be so routine and ordinary for the surgical team.
I sat waiting alone, wrapped up in one of the biggest and coziest blankets that I brought from home. I wasn’t thinking about the surgery at all. I was mostly thinking about all that I had gone through, and here I was, alone heading into my final surgery.
Exactly where I was supposed to be.
Surgery is a big deal. Surgery is a bigger deal when you’re a single mom. My three girls rely on me day in and day out. Oh ya, I’m also self employed, so technically, no time off work either.
When it was my time to go in, shit started to get real. I told the nursing team that I haven’t ever taken the IV well. The anesthesiologist was a gentle but confident woman.
I asked if she was going to be putting a tube down my throat and asked her to be careful. I know medical mishaps happen and people can be left with lifelong issues and pain. I didn’t fear this, but I was conscious of it.
My step mom is on permanent disability from nerve damage that was done to her neck during a surgery on her big toe. Obviously knowing this and saying this wasn’t going to necessary change anything. But you know, this stuff is regular routine for them and people do make mistakes time-to-time.
I just humanized the situation. Maybe she didn’t need to hear it, maybe she knows; it’s her job after all. I didn’t have much to say, other than please be careful, I have 3 daughters at home.
I also let her know that I’ve had some traumatizing IV experiences. I had to speak up. I have a handful of awful experiences with bruising that lasted weeks. I’m that patient that sometimes requires a few skilled hands before they get it.
Within a second, she had the IV in, no pain, no pinch even. I looked at her with tears in my eyes and thanked her. She put the oxygen mask on my face, told me to breath deeply a few times, and I went to sleep.
The surgery was about 1.5 hours. When I woke up, I started coming to it pretty quickly. I asked for my phone, so I could communicate with my assistant and let her know when to come get me. I also wanted to document how I was feeling, mentally and emotionally because this shit isn’t small.
I Did The Right Thing - For Myself, By Myself
The first thing I saw when I got my phone was a message from my ex. The 3.5 year off and on relationship that I couldn’t seem to escape. My toddler’s father.
We weren’t together leading up to my reconstruction surgery on Oct 1, 2018, but he came back into my life and ended up taking me to that surgery and helping with recovery the days after. I didn’t need him. I have super close girlfriends and a tribe, but he’s knows how to work with my vulnerability with words and naturally I always wanted it to work. I am a hopeless romantic, a dreamer.
There we were back together, but not for long; and the off and on continued.
What does this have to do with my explant and healing? EVERYTHING!!
This time was different. For the explant surgery on May 24, 2019 we were also 100% off, but in the days leading up to the surgery he was asking if he could take me to surgery. It was a HARD NO. This time was different. I said it nicely. I was grateful for his words of support but I wasn’t allowing him to be there.
I went alone, I did this alone. This was my journey. I wasn’t going to allow him take this from me, to ‘be there’ for me, especially because he had continuously been so toxic for me.
He shamed me for almost every part of my being. Used all my deepest experiences and feelings against me. Literally every special occasion, holiday, vacation was filled with drama and pain. He went through every single thing I owned into great depths. Everything broken every single boundary I've ever tried to create.
This explant was powerful. It was different this time. This girl grew some freaken lady balls. Nobody was taking this moment from me.
I knew I was doing this alone. I knew I would be okay. I didn’t need to fall into his arms, even though he was telling me I should.
I fully trusted myself and the universe.
On the day of my surgery, when I was laying on the recovery bed, still drugged up, his messages started out gently; when I told him that I was okay, and thanked him, he started aggressively trying to convince me that he should come to care for me.
It went on, as usual. The fighting, the non sense; me begging him to stop.
I'm thinking...the irony, you want to come help me and love me. BUT, you’re doing the total opposite of that right now and you know that I just got out of surgery.
My brain was telling me - WARNING, words and actions don’t align. This isn’t love. This is extremely toxic. I told him that and asked him to leave me alone, then two days later blocked him. He’s been blocked since.
So it ended in some serious rage and sadness on my end. There I was alone, on the recovery table with IV, a tightly wrapped chest, things attached to me, and coming down from anesthetic and ventilyn.
This is how he treated me when I told him, no? I had said it nicely a few times leading up to the day. Nothing was going to change coming out of surgery. In fact, I was upset that boundaries weren’t respected, ultimately I wasn’t respected. I finally cared about myself enough to truly stand up for myself.
So a lot changed in the weeks leading up to this surgery. A lot changed that day.
That was the day that I stopped allowing the bullshit. Stopped giving in. Took ownership for my body, my life, my emotional health, physical, mental, all of it.
I took my life back. I stood up for myself. After 3.5 years of being told what to do, told what to wear, what not to wear and controlled in every way I can imagine.
I wasn’t living in fear anymore, I wasn’t walking on eggshells, I wasn’t living in pain or with drama, anymore.
This went for all things.
Something huge shifted that day.
Obviously it wasn’t random and unexpected. I was expecting some pretty deep magical shifts. I was open. I was actually 'more afraid to be with him than without'. Those were the words I used to describe my feelings and thoughts to my confidants.
I CHOSE ME that day. I’m sharing this because this is my story; this is part of the story, actually this is most of the story, really. This was why and how my explant changed my life.
What it really comes down to; I was me, I was free, I could breath, I wasn’t constricted; I was free of toxicity, well in that direction anyways. The weight on my chest; it was gone.
Come on, look at the parallels. How huge is that.
Okay, so now that you can see just how massive this was - the reconstruction surgery in Oct (7 months prior), letting this man back in. Then deciding, enough is enough; after waking up to the fact that these implants are toxic and needed to go. The same for him. I started waking up more and more. I saw more than I ever did before. I had enough. It was over and I was saying NO. I was done.
Based on history and stats, I would have gone back; he was expecting me too. Because I always did. That changed that day, I changed that day. I saw the truth that day. Cycles stopped.
Present day, I am free to be me, small scarred boobs and all.
You have no idea how freaken liberating that is.
I actually didn’t make sense of that until the days following my explant when I started to become really freaken clear. The universe is freaken brilliant. I thank God every day that I did that day alone. What followed in the days and weeks after was pure magic.
My gut told me, Jules, you’re doing this alone. You’re enough; you don’t need what he’s offering. My gut was right. The moment he didn’t get his way, he went on to slander me, attack me, hurt me. Same old stuff.
Thankfully I was drugged up so even though very traumatizing and recent, the memories are becoming foggier.
In that moment on that recovery bed, I was coherent. I was emotional but super freaken aware. I sat sobbing the entire time on that recovery bed. I left so angry. I raged the whole way home.
My assistant picked me up and took me home and obviously I was pretty upset when she showed up. I vented the entire way home then went to bed. Later that evening my friend Gloria came over to help take care of me and my 3 daughters; that was the beginning of a pretty amazing relationship. We call ourselves Grace and Frankie.
Later that day when I woke up, I was still super clear on what had actually happened and where I was going now. I was focused on me and my healing. I had healthy boundaries in place.
So that’s really most of my healing post-explant experience. It was honestly more of a emotional, spiritual and mental experience and that is where a majority of my healing is coming from.
Physically, I am good.
Considering all they've been through, my boobs look pretty good!
When I peeked down for the first time while they were still wrapped tightly, they were pretty flat and deformed. I had no reaction or judgement. I just trusted that it would all work out, that they would look okay.
I had zero complications physically with the surgery or healing. My drains were out on day 5 and I was at a 3-day business summit as a vendor in the marketplace 12 days later.
I was out socializing. I was out talking about my business. Talking about my surgery. Making new friends. Making new connections. I was happy. I had energy. I felt light and I felt like me.
On the day of my surgery, I received a message from one of my past employees and friend, a girl who also had her own form of trauma and healing in the past few years. I hadn’t been in contact with her, well because life. She was healing and going to school, and I was going through what I was going through - too much to list right now.
After receiving her message and within a few exchanges, I learned that she was about to complete her RMT program. I had told her I had a business idea that I eventually wanted her to be involved in. It kinda just came to me. I started connecting a few things that I had experienced over the past week and on my recent trip to Vancouver and Whistler.
So she helped me with my 3-day business event. I couldn’t have done it without her. She was there for the whole first day, helped with move in and really helped me settle in. We had so much to catch up on, so many laughs. It was like nothing had changed, meanwhile everything had changed, for both of us.
So many pieces of wisdom and insight started coming in fast and often. It’s been the most powerful time of my life. It was right after I booked my explant appointment that the insights and synchronicities really heated up.
I didn’t need to fear being alone. To fear suffering. I was already suffering. By removing what was no longer serving me and obviously causing me harm, I removed the toxic from my life and made space for more, for change.
I decided that I wasn’t living in fear. Not anymore. I trust. I have faith. With that, there isn’t any room for fear.
What got me here? My belief in divinity. My belief in spirit. My deepest and darkest days and moments. My trauma, my experiences, and my healers. Ultimately, a lot of hard truths and work.
I have seen time and time again, that when I remove toxicity from my life, magic happens. Space opens.
Hi, I'm Jules; a multi-passion business woman, entrepreneur, independent and mindful mom to 3 girls, luxury travel and fitness lover, planner, organizer and occasional lifestyle blogger. I live mid-town Toronto with my three daughters. Any chance I can, I'm booking a vacation. I appreciate quality, truth and vulnerability, and love natural products