Found out on Friday that I am pregnant! Yay me! Except for one thing: I am overweight. So much so, that on the BMI chart, I clock in at "Morbidly Obese."
My weight has always been an issue for me, ever since I can remember. In 5th grade I remember hating how I looked because of the extra weight that I seemed to have that the other girls seemed to lack. On a trip to the San Antonio Zoo, there was a playground that had a wooden bridge that connected two sections of castle. There was a weight limit posted on it. I remember thinking, "If I am on this bridge, no one can be on it with me, because I am the weight limit."
Last month when I went for a pre-conception check up to see that everything is working and in the right place, my Dr. told me I needed to lose about 20 lbs. I was anticipating this. I had already lost about 15 lbs before I went to the appt, thanks to South Beach. I planned to go forward with this diet to lose the rest, but to be honest I have a love hate relationship with food. I wasn't as strict as I needed to be and I gained 7lbs back, very quickly. This wasn't the plan, but alas I was unfocused and not as diligent as I should have been.
I read somewhere that it takes a woman, of normal size, between the ages of 20-35 about 6 months of trying before she concieves. My husband and I thought that since I am of more than normal size, it may take longer since excess weight leads to infertility. Well, looks like we had beginners luck! This made me happier than I've ever been in my entire life. You see, along with dealing with weight issues and food addiction, I've also always had a dream of becoming a mother. It truly is why I believe I was placed on this earth. (Do you feel the 'but' coming?)
BUT- I have since been deflated. Nervous about the delicacy of the first few months and worried about the complications the weight would add, I scheduled my first prenatal appt. Yes, I'm only 5-6 weeks. Yes I know this is somewhat, if not incredibly early. But I scheduled it nonetheless. I expected some congratulations. Some jubilation. Some recognition that it happened super fast. Some recognition that it happened!
The office was super busy, overworked, understaffed. I felt like just a bag of blood and one more thing on their to-do list. While talking with the Dr. (finally) he seemed to be troubled by the situation and spent the duration of the discussion wagging his finger at me. He said being this heavy increases the chance of miscarriage. I knew this, however when he said it, it bounced around every corner of my brain, filling me with a sense of doom. He asked if I had any questions, and when I pulled out my list, he sighed. I'm sorry, but as an overweight, first time mother, shouldn't I have some questions? He sped through the answers as if I was bothering him. I walked out of the office feeling like a crappy mom and that a miscarriage was inevitable.
Needless to say, I'm searching for a new OB/GYN.
Now, I'm not wanting a second opinion. What he said was fact, and I know that being heavy complicates things needlessly. I will take every suggestion to heart, because I love my little appleseed and would do anything for it. However, I want someone who is there to answer my questions and listen to the questions I'm not asking. I want someone to encourage me instead of scold me. I'm not saying he is a bad Dr. I'm just saying I'd be more comfortable with someone more attentive.
After a night of sobbing and being scared to move, I've scoured the internet for anything out there for a plus sized preggo. While I did get consoled by what was out there, I wanted to put my voice out there for others who may feel the same or are going through the same thing. If this blog does find it's way into one of your lives, please comment, as I would welcome any comradery or solidarity.
Until then,
Big Momma.
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