Facing the scale.

I will admit, feeling quite silly, that the scariest thing about my new pregnancy was the fact that I would have to get on the scale. You know, in front of someone else.

I worked myself up into quite the state worrying about my first visit. I had heard a few horror stories online from other plus sized ladies regarding how they were treated by their doctors. Some were flat out told that they couldn't be seen by a 'normal' doctor, based purely on their weight and having nothing to do with anything else as far as health concerns go.

Some were verbally abused by the nurses. Some by the doctors themselves. I felt sick to my stomach. Was this going to happen to me? Would my first visit, and first ultrasound, be forever tainted by a bad experience with the staff?

Finally, I broke down and called the girl who would be seeing me for that first appointment. I had seen her a year before, and we had talked about my need to lose weight. I knew that I would have to face her again. I knew that my chart would show that I had gained weight after she had tried so hard to get me to lose it. I was so embarrassed.

By God, I was so emotional. I immediately broke down to tears as I confided in her that I was terrified of seeing her the next day. I told her that if they had a problem with my weight, please just tell me now and don't make me go through that humiliating experience in front of her.

She reassured me that they had seen plenty of plus-sized women and she had never heard of any problems with any of the staff being mean to patients. I was relieved. Momentarily anyways.

First up was the weigh in. In this office the scale was in a private bathroom. This awarded me with a nice advantage. After I provided my pee sample, I immediately got on the scale and got it to my correct weight. I wouldn't have to suffer any humiliation when the nurse started at the left and had to keep bumping up the scale to the right, and further to the right, and so on. This was a way for me to be in control of the situation, in a small little way. I survived. I didn't let myself feel depressed or ashamed, not even for a moment.

Second was the blood pressure test. The reaction I keep getting is something to the effect of, "Wow! That is a fantastic BP! What was it last time you came in?" In my head, I always hear it as, "Wow! That is a fantastic BP for someone as heavy as you are!" Even if that is what they are thinking, screw it, I am proud that I have a stellar BP and it is good news for myself and the baby.

This is who I am.

Dammit I am sick of being ashamed. I am sick of feeling so insecure. I am who I am. If anyone has a problem with it, I really don't give a crap. Who are you anyways, and why would I care that you don't approve of the way I look?

Once I do have this baby, I do plan on giving weight loss everything I absolutely have. Not because I am inadequate. Not because of the judgments I am afraid of having passed upon me. Only because I love myself and I want to live the best life possible.

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