Tag Archives: fat issues

Diary of a Fat Girl- Part 5


Don’t stereotype other people!

 

Glamour-1

As I left off in the last part of my diary….I had finally conceived my precious child.  The months went by quickly…my stomach growing with the life inside of me.  I enjoyed buying pretty maternity clothing.  I loved being able to start buying the things I needed to transform a room into a nursery.  Every month that went by, I became more and more excited.  On the day I was to go to my OBGYN for my ultra sound, I was both nervous and excited.  As the doctor put the gel on my stomach and started moving it around, I looked at the monitor and saw the most miraculous site.  My child was curled up, cozy in my womb.  I remember crying with joy.  He asked me if I wanted to know what the baby was and I immediately said YES!  He took several pictures and began pointing out various body parts.  Finally, he moved to one area and stated “Well, it looks like you are going to have a little boy”.  More tears from me and an elation that far surpassed anything I had ever known.  I had gone through so much to be able to live this moment.  It was all worth it.

In my 7th month, we had a house-warming party.  My husband and I had bought a new house and wanted to have our friends over to celebrate.  It was a wonderful evening…until people started leaving.  The cars were all crowded into our yard, so I went outside to help direct cars out of the driveway and grass.  I was standing in the grass, directing one particular car, when all of a sudden, the driver ran over my foot!  I screamed and it must have scared him, so he took the car out of reverse and ran over my foot again!  I was rushed to the hospital.  They had to cover my stomach with a lead cover so that they could take the x-rays.  Fortunately, it was not broken.  But my foot was black and blue and had pretty little waffle marks all over it.

The next month, I was in the kitchen cooking and dropped a glass cutting board that had pointed edges, right on my middle toe.  The edge went into the nail bed and blood went everywhere.  I sat down hard on the floor and screamed.  My husband came running.  I thought he was going to have a stroke when he saw all the blood.  He thought something was wrong with me and the baby.  Needless to say, I was a bit embarrassed.

So, the time was upon us. The doctor had told me after I had conceived that there was a possibility that I would not be able to have the baby normally because I had a small pelvis.  I remember like it was yesterday, looking at the doctor in disbelief and saying “With the big ass hips, you are saying I have a small pelvis?!”  hah!  He told me that the pelvis had nothing to do with what was on the outside.  I remember leaving the office brushing it off and not giving it another thought.

Well, I was wrong and he was right.  I already had a pre-determined day that they would induce labor.  My blood pressure was giving me problems and my ankles were swollen up like balloons.  So on that day, they induced my labor and broke my water.  I have always heard it’s the most painful experience and at the time, it was.  After dilating so many centimeters, I was allowed an epidural.  The bad thing about those is, you can’t tell when to push…well, I couldn’t.  I labored with my boy for hours and hours.  I don’t think I have ever been as tired as I was at that moment.  The doctor decided to move me to the operating room because he was pretty sure I would need a C-section.  He tried forceps, but my little boy just wasn’t coming through.  So, they repositioned him back up higher so they could deliver him C-section.  They prepped me and started the procedure.  Just as he started cutting me, I remember yelling “Hey, I feel that!”  The doctor looked at me and said “Nite nite”.  They put me under.  I was not able to see my little prince until the following day.  All of my family told me that my poor little boy came out looking like a cone head!  The next day when they brought him to me, I can’t remember a joy so wonderful as seeing my little boy for the first time.

As you can imagine, I gained weight while I was pregnant.  Unfortunately, I continued to do so after while.  While the surgery gave me what I wanted most in life, it was only a temporary fix to my problem.  The pouch that they make in the top part of the stomach above the band, can be stretched over time.  While I still can’t and won’t eat, platter after platter of food…my choices in WHAT I ate were the problem.  Many people eat when they are depressed, I am not alone in that.  Many people eat for pleasure.  Everyone’s metabolism is different.  I discovered that over the years, I ruined mine by not eating on a schedule, eating the wrong things and most of all, the up and down dieting I had been doing all my life.

In 1995, I was diagnosed with RA.  In order not to repeat the entire story, please go to my blog post “Living With Disabilities”.  It will explain what happened after I was diagnosed with RA.

Part 6 of Diary of a Fat Girl coming soon.

 

“Diary of a Fat Girl” Part 4


3BwomendoNOTlooklikesupermodels

 

It’s been a while since my last post.  Life gets in the way.  Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s not.  I have had some difficulty getting things typed due to some RA issues in my fingers.  My jewelry making takes it’s toll on my hands, but it’s not something I am willing to give up.  Hmmm, I wonder if it would be a good idea to invest in one of those speech to type programs?  Oh well….on to part 4 of my story.

There were many other instances in high school, but I would have to write a whole book to tell it all.   After high school, I ran the gamut of experiences in life.  I worked at a restaurant.  I went to cosmetology school.  I worked as a cosmetologist at Eckerd Drugs.  I met and married my first husband.  Throughout it all….my size fluctuated.  My weight reached it’s highest after I married.  By then, I had a good job at C&S Bank in the factoring division.

I had started feeling the “call of nature”.  I wanted a baby.  My monthly periods were sporadic at best.  I had gone to see my gynecologist and got some bad news.  “Unless you lose a significant amount of weight, I doubt very seriously if you will be able to conceive.  If you miraculously do manage to become pregnant, your chances of carrying the baby safely, will be greatly reduced.”  Those words out of the doctor’s mouth, were like being doused with a bucket of cold water.  So, at this point in the story, I am sure you are asking yourselves “Why doesn’t she just go on a diet?”.    It’s not that easy….at least for some of us.

Have I told you yet that my life had been a series of failed diet after failed diet? I tried every diet imaginable…pills (which when my school chums found out I had them….hounded me relentlessly to get their hands on them), shakes, fasts, pre-packaged foods….you name it.  To say that I was an expert on fad diets, is an understatement.  I knew I had to do something if I were to ever have a chance at having a child.  So, I decided to go see a Bariatric specialist.  He explained to me that a new surgery was available for obese people.  The surgery, VBG or Vertical Banded Gastroplasty, was an option that he presented to me. One of the criteria was that you had to be 100 pounds or more overweight.  I qualified in spades.  As well as the 100 pounds overweight criteria, I also had to go through a mental evaluation.  Without going into a long discourse on that, I have included this link concerning the mental evaluation process of VBG candidates.  http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3096263/

So, I had my surgery in 1984.  I went through hell after that surgery.  It was a very difficult healing process.  The incision ran from my sternum, all the way to my belly button.  You have to understand that in order to get to your stomach, they cut through muscle.  Just the act of sitting up from a lying position, was a major obstacle.  I had to have assistance.  Any kind of straining caused a lot of pain.  Eating was a whole new experience.  For the first month, all I could eat was soft foods…scrambled eggs, mashed potatoes, jello, baby food.  The reason for that was that the staples inside, had to heal up.  Putting something solid into my stomach could rip them loose.  Once I healed well enough, I was allowed solid food….which I had to chew extremely thoroughly.  The problem with that was, if the food were not chewed to a pulp, it would become lodged in the banded area…causing extreme pain and discomfort until it was either passed on down into the stomach, or thrown up.   Throwing up is literally a harrowing experience now.  The food has to go back up past the band, then up the esophagus.  In doing so, it is with much force and the resulting broken blood vessels in my eyes and face, are inevitable.  This happened to me many times and still does on occasion.

Here is a link to a computer animation of VBG.  It will give you a better idea of what is involved in the process.  http://youtu.be/K4XApq-l6as

I would look in the mirror at my shrinking body.  I knew that my eyes were showing me the correct image, but I could not help seeing the “other” me in the mirror from time to time.  One disadvantage of losing weight so fast, is that your skin does not have time to shrink back properly.  So, you end up with loose, saggy skin in different areas on your body.  Mine was mostly the upper arms and legs.  This became very difficult to look at in the mirror.  So, I dressed appropriately.  I made sure that these parts of my body were not visible to others.  But I still enjoyed the compliments and praise that I received when I  went back to work.  I enjoyed the looks of men when I went out.  I enjoyed buying smaller clothing.  Mind you….I was still not a size 5…not even a size 12.  But I was smaller.  My periods returned to a regular cycle.   I experienced difficulties from the procedure from time to time…but Life was different…better.  But it was soon to be the best.

I lost almost 100 pounds and conceived my son in 1985.  To say that I was ecstatic, is an understatement.  It was a bittersweet day when I found out.  That morning, I had gone in for a blood test.  I knew in my heart that I was pregnant, although the EPT tests came up negative.  Later in the afternoon, I got a call from my husband that his dad had had a heart attack and had been transported to the hospital.  When we got there, his father had passed on.  Needless to say, it was a heart breaking day.  That evening, the doctor called to give me the good news that I was indeed pregnant.  It was hard to know how to feel.  But deep inside, my heart was full of joy.  I was pregnant and would soon have a child.

 

This is my scar from my surgery…30 years later.

 

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More in part 5 of Diary of a Fat Girl.