When I start a new project I tend to get too caught up in it. I get consumed. Especially when I am passionate about it. And I realized this morning that’s what has happened with this blog. I’ve become consumed with sharing information (which is good) but I forgot to add that personal touch. To share my story and why I’m here.
15 years ago I joined my first online message board community, about wedding planning. (The now defunct Ultimate Wedding.) I wasn’t even engaged yet, but I was obsessed with the idea of getting married to my longtime boyfriend. (We’ve been married 13 years now!)
On that message board I became a member of the admin team, moderating the board and making sure it stayed friendly and fun. While part of that team, I made some amazing bonds with my “invisible friends” – many of those ladies I am still close with today. (And a few have become “real life” friends too!)
After the wedding I naturally progressed to being a member of a Home/Family/Baby community. I wanted a baby so badly. But?I was overweight. And life was crazy.
We had some bad luck conceiving. I could get pregnant, but would miscarry. And despite being on a message board community that was heavily focused on Trying to Conceive (TTC) I kept my head in the sand about all the possible reasons why it wasn’t working for me. (And then I went back on birth control, trying to convince myself that I didn’t really want a baby yet. I was still young and had plenty of time.
Then one day, a few years later and still on birth control? I was pregnant.
The first 7 months of my pregnancy were smooth – despite being overweight. (I only gained 14 pounds during the entire pregnancy, so I like to think I was trying to be pretty healthy!) I was paranoid about getting gestational diabetes because I was certain it wouldn’t go away after the baby was born, so I tried hard to watch what I ate and get exercise.
But at 34 1/2 weeks I went to my routine checkup and the doctor sent me to the hospital for monitoring. My blood pressure was elevated and he wanted to check me for Preeclampsia.
This is where my pregnancy nightmare began. My husband was out of town for work (I wasn’t due for another month!) my family was 600 miles away. My sister was visiting, but she was still pretty young and the world of pregnancy was pretty scary to her. (Or rather the idea that something could be wrong with my pregnancy!)
The scariest moment of my life was that night (June 16, 2008) when the nurse walked into my hospital room and told me that I had preeclampsia and the doctor wanted to induce immediately. I burst into tears and told her my husband was out of town. My sister started crying because she was terrified – she wasn’t prepared to be my labor and delivery coach! That nurse was rather unfriendly, she told me “Well, if you don’t induce now? The doctor will no longer treat you.” And she left.
Cue hysterics. I called my husband. I called my best friend who lived two hours away. I called my parents. (Who jumped in the car, despite it being 8pm and having a ten hour drive to get to me.)
An hour later the doctor came in and found me sobbing. I told him that my husband couldn’t be back for at least 48 hours, that I was all alone (and I think one look at my sister who was losing her mind – probably rocking in the fetal position in the corner!) and he apologized for scaring me. He had forgotten that my husband was gone, and was fine (assuming my body cooperated and my blood pressure stayed low) waiting until he could get there.
This started a LONG 48 hours. I had to lay on my left side, the only way my BP would stay down. I could barely eat, and was pumping fluids like no ones business. My sister was a basket case until my parents finally made it. And my husband was checking in driving across country with his mom to get back ASAP.
Finally on June 20 at 5am, my husband walked in the door – hadn’t slept since I’d called to tell him they wanted to ind induce. Within ten minutes of his walking in the door they were beginning my induction. Which went smoothly for the first few hours, but around noon my BP spiked again. The doctor started pushing for a c-section, but I stood my ground.
However, about 10pm my BP was skyrocketing and the babies heart rate dropping. So they put me on oxygen. I was emotional (obviously) and stressed out. And my labor was not progressing. At 11:30, the doctor made the call to have a c-section. Baby was in distress and my BP was doing dangerous things.
At 11:51pm, my 6lbs baby girl was born. Perfectly healthy. Here is where we got another shock – despite having several ultrasounds? We never noticed that the baby was missing her fingers on her left hand. (It was always tucked up between her face and the placenta – so we just assumed she was making a fist.)
The nurses rushed my baby to the nursery to be checked out, making sure that her missing fingers was the only thing abnormal. My husband went with the baby, and I was eventually wheeled into post-op. Where I sat. Alone. For 3 more hours. No news on my baby. I didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl. I just knew it was here, and it was missing fingers.
Being the middle of the night, all the nurses were elsewhere. The doctor had gone home. And I was apparently forgotten.
Finally, sometime around 3:30 in the morning, a nurse came back for me. (She apologized, she’d gotten busy.) I was a wreck. I needed to know what was wrong with my baby. I needed to see it.
So finally, at 3:45 that morning, I met my baby girl!
The good news? That little baby girl is now a perfectly normal, happy, healthy almost-8 year old!
And despite missing some fingers? She plays hockey, is active in girl scouts, dance, and about a zillion other activities! There is no stopping her. (Unless it comes to brushing her hair! Then she tries to pull the “But I don’t have a hand…” card!)
However, at this point? She remains an only child.
About 4 years ago I was diagnosed with PCOS. Which I was told would make it hard to have another baby, should my husband and I ever get on the same page and be ready for another baby!
Fast Forward to May 2016, and it’s finally time to really start thinking about another baby. I’m 33, my husband 36. Our little one will be 8 in a month. So I started hunting for resources for plus-sized pregnancy. There’s not much. There just isn’t. So my best friend said “Why not make your own?” And here we are!
My goal with Plus Sized Pregnancy is to share my story (hopefully eventually my pregnancy!) and to also create a place where you can find all the information you need to have a healthy, happy pregnancy – no matter your size!