Pregnant...NOT Fat!

Today was NOT a good day for a pregnant woman's self-esteem...Not a good day at all.

I'd gotten an appointment with my PCM for my foot. About 4 weeks back I noticed that I was having some swelling and bruising and was a little worried that I might have a small fracture in one of my small bones on the top of my foot. I had been hoping the pain would go away, but it's still here after 4 weeks, though some days it is much worse than others. I decided it was time to see a doctor about it, and my appointment was this morning.

I suppose that I should have had some kind of warning what kind of day it was going to be when I walked out of the house and promptly did a face plant on the driveway! (I did NOT go flat on my face, but caught myself on my hands and knees, saving the baby, but badly bruising my pride...not to mention scraping up my palms and knees.) Poor Michael was close enough to SEE it, but not close enough to catch me, and responded to that frustration by scolding me thoroughly for having the audacity to walk out the back door without his help! (I understand that the scolding was an attempt, though failed, to hide the worry that he felt at watching his wife and child plummet towards the pavement with little grace, so I took it and assured him that I was fine and would never again attempt to exit the house without his assistance!) I did not take the fall as the warning that I should have on how the rest of my day was going to go. If I had, I would have turned around, walked into the house and curled up in bed, not to be seen for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, I was rather cheery about it, since the baby and I had come to no real harm, and we went off to the hospital in complete ignorance of how the rest of the morning would go.

The nurse who took me back was polite enough, asking when I was due and if it was our first and if I was excited...and then proceeded to tell me that swelling was completely common in a pregnant woman's feet, giving me a LOOK that clearly let me know I was wasting her time. I responded by informing her that it was localized swelling and bruising, and was NOT in my feet and ankles but just this ONE spot on my ONE foot. I told her, in a very polite way, that I was fully aware that pregnant women have swelling, but that I HADN'T had any swelling that was pregnancy related at all, and that I knew better than to come to a doctor for swollen pregnancy ankles. She went to get the doctor, informing me in a bit of a huff that he would be in shortly. Even Michael raised his eyebrows, and not much surprises or ruffles him, though he assured me that I had been polite and that she had no reason to be upset with me.

Then came the doctor, who I'd never met before, but that is to be expected. I was telling him my symptoms and letting him know what's going on when he asked me if I had taken anything for the pain. I informed him that I had tried Tylenol, since that's all I can really take right now, to which he exclaimed "Oh, are you pregnant?" Now,I have posted pictures recently so feel free to tell me if I'm wrong, but while I was never a pixie, I think it's pretty darn obvious at this point that I'm pregnant. After all, I look like an obscenely obese hippo, but my belly isn't jiggily or flabby...just full of baby. Still, you don't look at an Officer and say "Well DUH!", so I told him that Yes, I was pregnant and was almost 33 weeks along. He looked surprised in a way that was very unflattering, and I almost asked him why else he thought I would be taking pre-natal vitamins, since he had my list of prescription meds right in front of him.

He finally looked at my foot, and seemed to decide that I did NOT just have swollen pregnancy ankles. (I was ever so flattered when he decided I wasn't an idiot.) He poked and prodded the swollen bruise for awhile, and then sat back looking puzzled. He said there was a possibility, since I couldn't remember doing anything specific TO it, that I had a stress fracture...and then made an attempt at a tactful mention of how that could be a possibility since I had "obviously gained some weight during pregnancy..." Again, you do not scream at an officer "So you're saying I broke my foot because I have a fat ass?" but I am not sure what my face must have looked like when I said "Actually I've lost weight..." and the look of absolute SHOCK on his made me want to fall into a hole in the ground, despite the fact that he quickly tried to cover it up with "Oh, well that's great!" He must not have have a wife or daughters.

He had to make some phone calls up to the Baby Doctors to make sure that I was safe for an x-ray at 33 weeks, and once it was determined that it WAS, we headed down to the Radiology people...who are the same people where I had my terrible ultrasound experience. Still, this was just an x-ray, how bad could it be? (Why do I even ASK that anymore?)

The woman who checked me in smiled at my stomach and asked how I was feeling, and made sure that the doctor had checked that the x-ray was okay, so obviously SHE could tell I was pregnant...but the young man who walked me back was clearly not clued in. First of all, he acted like we were walking a timed marathon! Had I been able to, I would have been jogging to keep up...as it was I just waddled in fast motion, amusing myself by imagining what I must look like trying to keep up with him. (I was still a good 20 feet back when he arrived at the x-ray room.) As we walked in he gave me the speal about where to sit and then asked "Is there any chance you might be pregnant?" By this point I was not feeling very gracious and I responded with "Well YEAH.", to which he goes "You could be?" and I snapped back "Seriously?" while pointing to my OBVIOUSLY swollen stomach and giving him a Look. I felt a little bad at his sheepish smile, but stopped feeling bad when he told me that we couldn't do the x-ray then. I informed him that it had been okayed by the baby people upstairs and that I was almost 33 weeks along, and he ran off to double check.

Again, I got okayed, and he said we would just double shield me, though I had to sign a little thing saying that I "might' be pregnant and understood the risk. Well, my oh-so-polite ultrasound tech was the one assisting him with x-rays, (she was a complete bee with a itch last time with absolutely no bedside manner, and nothing seems to have changed) and when I commented that I figured there wasn't much more of a risk to the baby than to me at this point (since the baby is pretty much developed now, and is just putting on some extra weight and working out his/her little lungs), she cheerfully told me that I was wrong. The baby is still developing it's brain and reproductive organs and all that very important stuff, which makes this a MUCH larger risk to my child than to me...Though not much more of a risk than if I had spent a week out in the sun. I countered that since the baby doctors had okayed it, I wasn't too worried since they knew what they were doing...to which she SNORTED and said "Yeah...right" before stalking back to the little room where they get all the slides ready. So, I guess in 30 years if my child can't reproduce, it's my fault.

They wanted x-rays with weight on my foot, so I was going to be standing. This seems very easy, until they put 2 lead aprons on. Now, I'm not complaining about this part, since it was for the baby's safety...but if you've ever been pregnant, you know that you already feel a little off centered and front heavy by 33 weeks...add two heavy lead aprons and I was pretty sure I was going to fall forward on my face again! (I didn't, but I ALMOST did.) They took 2 and then had me walk up a 3 stair platform to get my last. Walking up was not so bad, but walking down with both baby and lead vests pulling me forward was amusing to say the least.

When I put all of it together in my mind as I put back on my shoe, (an operation that I huffed and puffed through, as I can't bend over that far anymore...Michael has had to tie my sneakers for the last week or so...it's very humbling to have to ask your husband to help you put on your shoes) I was very happy to get out of there and waddled quickly back to Michael in the waiting room, where I informed him (probably a little louder than I should have) that the hospital was full of monkeys for doctors and demanded that he tell me if I really just looked like a morbidly obese woman instead of a beautifully glowing pregnant one!!! He had the audacity (or perhaps bravery, I was a little too emotional to tell) to look amused, though he assured me through his smirk that HE thought I looked pregnant and not just really, REALLY fat! To be honest though, to say anything else would have been a risk to his life I'm not sure he would have taken.

All in all, I was quite glad to get home, and have no intention of leaving again until the baby is 6 months old and I am back to looking just a bit fluffy...or better, since I HAVE lost weight!

Honestly, I know I will look back on this and laugh...one day. Today, it was just knock after knock on my self-esteem, and I don't feel any pregnant woman needs that 7 weeks from delivery. I'm actually looking forward to my OB appointment on Wednesday, as those people will KNOW I'm pregnant and not just TERRIBLY fat!!!

Thanks for Reading!