Don’t stereotype other people!
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.