After several years of being married, my husband and I decided to stop using all forms of birth control in the hopes of conceiving our first child. Time went by, two years passed, and still there was no happy face, no little plus sign, nothing. There were many months where I felt sad and defeated, but at the same time, deep down inside, I had guarded my heart. I convinced myself that because of my size, pregnancy just wasn’t going to happen. Being a plus-size woman, I never felt comfortable seeking fertility help or guidance from my ob-gyn. Difficulty conceiving was not something that was foreign to me. I had family and friends who had faced their own fertility struggles, and I always had it in the back of my mind that getting pregnant might be even more difficult for me because of my size. I kept telling myself I needed to lose weight, and then I would seek help — but I never lost enough to gain that confidence. Almost three years after stopping birth control, I didn’t really track my cycles anymore, and I rarely took a pregnancy test if my period was late. I had mostly given up. After getting the positive home pregnancy test, I immediately started to worry about my first appointment. Would my doctor be concerned about my size? Would they judge me for being overweight and pregnant? Would I automatically have complications? Luckily, my ob-gyn was nothing but supportive. I brought up my size, and we discussed how much weight I should gain. She wasn’t concerned about my health at all, which put my fears at ease. But I was still worried about whether or not my size might affect my desire to have a natural birth. It seemed like ALL the other natural birthing mamas I knew or saw in photos were super in-shape, organic-type women — not that there’s anything wrong with being that way; I often wish I was that way. But I was embarrassed because I thought being larger meant I had a lesser chance of achieving my birth goals. So I decided to hire a doula to be my coach and advocate. From our very first conversation, she assured me that I could achieve the birth I was hoping for. I dozed on and off until 4:30 a.m., when I rolled over and felt two strange popping sensations. I wondered if it was my water breaking. I hurried to the bathroom, and to my excitement, it was my water breaking! But to my disappointment, the fluid was greenish brown. I knew the colored fluid meant baby had passed meconium — a complication that puts unborn babies at risk of aspirating meconium, which can block their airways — and my original plans of laboring at home as long as possible were no longer an option we were comfortable with. By 11:30 a.m. I started feeling nauseous and threw up, a lot! By noon, I was seven centimeters dilated and things were picking up. From this point until the baby was born is all a blur to me. Through it all, the baby’s heart rate was still dropping through contractions, but he was doing just well enough for us to continue. I am thankful I never felt that “I can’t do it” panic. I felt fully supported by my birth team and was confident that my body knew what it was doing.
