Hi, hey, howdy everyone —

It’s me, Miss Independent… asking for a little help. Who knew?! But before I get into alllll that, allow me to introduce myself.

My name is Jess. I’m a single mom to a beautiful little girl who is my entire world. I work multiple (honest!) jobs to keep us afloat and give her the life every child deserves.

Before becoming a mom, I had my share of trials — and I came out on the other side, and even though I’m about to go through another big one, this one strangely feels more like a blessing in disguise. Once I get into the details, you’ll understand what I mean.

So — as if life weren’t wild enough — I’m about to undergo an explant.

A what? You heard me: X-PLANT!

After 20 years of living with breast implants (a.k.a. the “fun bags,” “the girls,” or lately the “not-so-fun bags”), my body has officially said no more. And yes — I use dark humor to bring light to sad situations. Crucify me!

Here’s the real story: I have what’s known as BII (Breast Implant Illness). Even though thousands of women have come forward with the same painful, debilitating symptoms — heart palpitations, chronic fatigue, joint pain, brain fog — BII still isn’t fully recognized by the medical world. That makes insurance coverage extremely difficult to navigate.

I’ve been advocating for myself for three years. Three long years of battling symptoms, begging doctors to listen, and watching my health slowly decline. Eventually, I found other women who were going through the same thing. Their stories validated what my heart already knew: this was being caused by my implants.

And finally — finally — my insurance has approved the explant surgery. That’s the good news.

But here’s the catch: I’ll need to take 6 weeks off work for recovery. And like many people in this country, I don’t have six weeks of paid time off. Taking that much time off means a severe loss of income —without employment and basic mobility to even work the way I would normally be able — all while still needing to cover rent, utilities, food, childcare, and basic essentials for my daughter.

To make matters more intense: I recently upgraded us to a three-bedroom home (after living in a one-bedroom with a toddler for 2.5 years), and I’ve already spent my savings on that move. The timing of this surgery couldn’t be worse — but the urgency is real. I need this surgery now to protect my long-term health and, quite frankly, to save my life.

I know some people might roll their eyes. “Boo-hoo, sad song. People have it worse.” And you’re right — many do. But this is my story. I’m not claiming to be perfect. I made a decision at 20 years old that I now regret. I was in an insecure, abusive relationship, and I thought a boob job would fix everything. It didn’t. I didn’t know what I didn’t know — and I certainly wasn’t thinking about being a mom one day.

Now, I’m just a woman trying to heal and be the healthiest version of myself for my daughter — because she deserves that. I’ve already lost both of my parents to terminal illness before the age of 21, and there’s no grandma or grandpa swooping in to help. I’m it.

This surgery is major. I won’t even be able to lift my toddler for six weeks. For a mom who plays, carries, and holds her baby constantly, that’s going to be emotionally devastating — for both of us.

But I’m choosing health. I’m choosing to heal. And I’m asking — as humbly and honestly as I can — for a little help to get through this next chapter.

I’m incredibly grateful that insurance is covering the surgery. But I’m scared about the financial hole I’ll be in during recovery. I’m scared about the emotional toll this will take on my daughter. And I’m trying to trust that people will hear my heart and, if they’re able, help ease the burden even just a little.

From the bottom of my heart — thank you for listening, thank you for supporting, and thank you for believing in me and this journey.

With love,

Jess