I was 24 when I was diagnosed with fibrosis, and I was told that it would be next to impossible for me to have a child of my own naturally, due to where the fibroids were positioned. Prior to this I had always said I didn’t want children, however upon hearing this news I was shaken to the core, because there’s just something about having a choice opposing not having a choice at all. When I was told about the condition, I cried like a baby.
My mother was in the office with me when the news was being delivered and I could feel her sadness radiating through the room. She had been the usual witness to my frequent outbursts about how okay I was with not having children. After we left the doctor’s office she said to me, “See you must be careful with the things you say, because you never know what will come to pass.” That was a lesson learned, so from then until now, I’m very careful about the things I say because the tongue is truly powerful. As they say, the tongue can kill and it can also cure.
“But there was still an overwhelming emptiness that I felt about not being able to do something I was made to do. I felt broken. “
I met my partner a year later. I had told him about my health situation from the beginning of the relationship, and he received the information with grace, and comforted me by saying not having children did not make me less of a woman and that he loved me for me. But there was still an overwhelming emptiness that I felt about not being able to do something I was made to do. I felt broken.
Thankfully, he had children from a previous relationship and I was happy about that, for it gave me the chance to be a mother, albeit not a biological one. After some time I accepted my fate, and I went on with my life and continued with my relationship.
A cruel trick
Then the day came that my period was late. At first I thought nothing of it, for pregnancy was not on my mind seeing that, you know, it was an impossibility. However, I decided to get a test just for the fun of it. I got the test and, what did you know, it was negative. A couple days later my period came; cramps and all. Now that was unnecessary punishment.
Another cruel trick?
Months passed and my period was late again. I thought nature was playing a cruel trick on me but I decided to go get the test for the fun of it once more. I took the test and I waited for what seemed a very long time. Finally I was seeing lines appearing. LINES!.. meaning both lines showed up on the stick this time. Even though one line was brighter than the other, I knew what it meant, it was positive. I couldn’t believe it. I stared at it for almost an hour in silence. It was positive. I was pregnant… With my very own baby. I called my partner and I screamed over the phone. Then I called my mom and cried. I was elated. I was excited. I was happy.
Then pregnancy really started to kick in, and all that happiness flew out the window every morning when I had to puke. Morning sickness ravaged my body. I could not eat, and despite not having anything in my stomach on most days due to not eating, I still puked. Luckily, the morning sickness did not last the entire nine months; it stopped around four months in and when my appetite came back I took advantage of it. I ate like there was no tomorrow. Due to that, I was humongous. My size 6 1/2 feet grew into a 7 1/2 (which, I might add, is now permanent). My emotions were uncontrollable. My hormones were all over the place. My stomach became decorated with stretch marks ( which, I might also add, are also permanent).
But all in all, my pregnancy journey, I believe, was one of the most normal ones. I didn’t have any high blood pressure. I didn’t have gestational diabetes. I didn’t have any major complications, thank God.
Despite the discomfort, I had a healthy pregnancy and two months ago I delivered a healthy baby girl into this world whom I love with all my heart. I gave birth vaginally while on epidural, and got a very small tear which was healed in no time. My recovery, like my pregnancy, was normal and it did not take a long time. Thank God for that. I am also immensely grateful that I did not suffer from postpartum depression (knock on wood). My prayers go out for the strong mothers who have been through it, and are going through it.
Bumpy road ahead
After settling into a routine with the little one and filtering through all the unsolicited advice about motherhood, I now had to deal with this baby weight. My curves had disappeared and I looked even shorter in height than I did before. I strongly resembled a ball and I was just bouncing through life. I had gained 30 pounds. 30 stubborn pounds that would not leave me alone. Breastfeeding was what I was told would help with my snapback, however, I was greatly traumatized by the nipple pain because for the life of me, my child couldn’t latch properly. So I had to resort to formula. I felt like a failure because of that.
But you know what I eventually learned? A FED baby – whether by bottle or breast – was the best option. So now I had to figure out a way to deal with this baby weight on my own. Again, I was feeling like a failure, because I couldn’t get back to looking like my old self fast enough. But with the encouraging words of my partner and my close friends, I realised that that was okay. I didn’t have to rush myself. Insecurity crept in, but whenever I looked into the eyes of my beautiful surprise, the insecurities vanished. So for now I have decided to put that aside and focus on being the best mother I can be to my baby and the rest of my girls… and keep bouncing happily through this life.