The mirror is starting to hate me. It glares back with more lines every time I look. Father Time has driven me from "never, ever, ever would I mess with my face" to "let's do this." The laugh lines around my eyes, the slight forehead wrinkles -- those I can live with. But my lip lines? Ugh. They're what took me from never, ever to yes.

But there was one problem standing between my acceptance and my doing: My "don't-do-anything-you're-beautiful-the-way-you-are" husband would kill me. So what's a gal to do? Go behind my husband's back and hope he doesn't notice? We all see the richerati characters on TV telling partners they're buzzing to St. Barts for a girls-only trip when they're really holing up in a hotel getting everything plumped and lifted. On my budget, even a fake island getaway wasn't in the cards. But after some of my closest girlfriends revealed they have work done secretly, and a week of fighting the for-and-against voices in my head, I decided to go for it. Here's how it went.

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I'm a journalist, so I start researching. It's what we do. Salon cosmetologists -- typically the least expensive option -- are not a consideration for me. I am too scared of ending up with a trout pout, and can't get images of Cat Lady Jocelyn Wildenstein's face out of my head. To avoid this outcome (as unlikely as it is), I want a reputable cosmetic surgeon who specializes in facial procedures.

I decide on Brucker Plastic Surgery in La Jolla, California, where Michael J. Brucker, MD, FACS, a certified Diplomat for the American Board of Plastic Surgery, did a surgical procedure for me a few years back. I remember his staff had beautiful faces and suspect Brucker lent a hand in keeping their natural looks -- and that's exactly what I want.

I book my appointment for a Friday, figuring any post-lip injection bruising will be gone by client meetings on Monday. Then, I talk to friends about the best ways to hide my swollen lips from my husband. We come up with excuses: My horse affectionately wacked me with his head. I walked into a door.

Also, because I don't bruise easily, I hope that a little concealer will be all I need to, well, conceal the work.

When the day of my lip injections arrives, I am nervous; Cat Lady images swirl in my head. I consider bailing, but convince myself I deserve to like my lips better. As I drive to Bruckner's office, I stare in the sun visor mirror at my rippled upper lip, narrowly avoiding a few fender benders.

At the surgery center, all checked in, I pull out my phone and take a final glance at my "before" lips. "The doctor will be with you soon," says the front desk assistant. I gulp audibly.

Brucker, a plastic surgeon for 14 years with cosmetic skin treatments making up 15 percent of his practice, tells me he has done thousands of lip fillers. It's exactly what I need to hear. Stilll, I'm nervous in the chair and confess my secret to Brucker. He reveals that 25 percent of his patients tell him no one knows they're doing it, but suspects 50 percent are actually getting their lip injections or other cosmetic procedures on the sly. His opinion? "Mostly, they're doing it for themselves, not driven by whether or not anyone notices."

Brucker specializes in a natural look with a less-is-more approach. After all, you can't put the toothpaste back in the tube. So, he saves a little of the lip filler, labeling the syringe so you can come back for a touch-up. "Generally, patients who ask for a little bit more are simply comfortable moving into a higher volume," he explains.

Dr. Brucker's preferred filler is Restylane, which, he says, is the most natural temporary filler made of hyaluronic acid (HA). If you don't like your lip look, an injection of hyaluronidase eraser enzyme dissolves the filler in five minutes.

He cleans my lip area with antiseptic wipes and injects a numbing solution to calm the bee sting feel of the filler needle. As the numbing quickly takes effect, I mumble questions about the procedure and what to expect afterwards.

"First I'll inject filler into the lower lip for balance. Then we'll do the top. With lines like yours," he says, sadly, "we can't fill them all, but you'll like the smoother result, and the few little remaining lines won't be noticeable."

Here we go. "You'll feel needle pricks and some stinging. Ready?" he smiles. My mouth mumbles "yep!" My wide eyes scream "OMG!"

I stare at the ceiling. Guided by his bright magnifying light, Brucker sticks the needle with quick jabs in and up methodically along the bottom of my lower lip, stopping between each stick to wipe and look. "How ya doing?"

"Onesty car fee a ing," I say, my lips too numb to articulate.

He wheels around me on his stool checking the symmetry of his work. Happy, he takes to my top lip. "OK still?" he asks, as he sticks the needle from my top lip line deep and up towards my nose.

"Ess," my eyes watering a little.

"Wow, you're my first patient ever who hasn't even flinched or asked me to take a break."

Yeh, I'm tough. Needles don't bother me. I'm lucky that way.

"All done." It's been less than 10 minutes.

I look in the mirror. "Please no trout pout. Please no trout pout," screams my anxiety. And there looking back at me is an only-slightly swollen smooth lip. I beam with relief, seriously elated, and Brucker grins. He's good and knows it. His assistant hands me a blue gel pack of cool beads and that's it.