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I am a below knee amputee. More importantly, I am also Mommy to two boys, a very active 10 year old (Robby) and an mischievous toddler (Timmy). I have learned that being a parent with a disability can create some unusual and sometimes humorous situations. This blogger is available for hire! Let's talk and learn how a blog can expand your business.

Monday, October 05, 2015


During the past few weeks I have received numerous emails from women who have recently experienced an amputation. While geography and individual circumstances vary greatly, I have noticed a common theme. I find myself repeating the advice I was given before I underwent my amputation.  "You will have problems with body image. You'll think that you won't, but you will. It's okay because you will look different. Just don't let your  new body shape define you." 

At the time, I shrugged off the body image warning with a naive confidence. I was secure in my decision to amputate and felt strong enough to handle the changes to my body. Little did I know that personal strength and resolve have little to do with processing and accepting the drastic change in body shape that occurs after a limb is amputated.  Acceptance wasn't something that could be forced but rather required gentle nudges, over time, to fully achieve.

I understand the rush to adjust. I was anxious to resume my life, to put the amputation behind me. It was only with time did I realize that my limb loss could never be put in my past. Instead of being something to get over, it became something that slowly because incorporated into every aspect of my life. From the jeans that I wear to the way I gauge obstacles, my limb loss is omnipresent. It is part of me, but it does not define me.

It took a long time for me to be able to look into a full length mirror and not feel overwhelming anxiety and grief. If I were to be completely honest, I must admit that sometimes I continue to feel pangs of sadness when I see my prosthetic in the mirror. I am always surprised by this reaction when it occurs, but I no longer reprimand myself for feeling that way. Instead of becoming angry for not being "over it," I now acknowledge the difference and walk away. Granting myself permission to occasionally feel sadness has been liberating.

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