A Novella - One Journey

Chapter 7:

It turns out that moving is not fun. At all. Luckily though, we only filled about 15 boxes, as we hadn't collected much stuff over the years. After packing the sixth box, I was sweating bullets and feeling like a dehydrated cow. Practically heaving, Harry wouldn't let me lift a single box into the back of a truck. About six hours later, everything was unpacked and in place. It was nice coming to a home that was already finished.

After throwing away the boxes and making complementary peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for everyone, I threw on a pair of sweats and hopped into our new bed. The preggo life is tough. Not going to lie. Each day I would look down to my slowly growing belly and wonder what the heck is happening. Am I gaining abnormal weight? And then I remember within two seconds. It's just hard to think of all this happening. It's definitely a big step in our life, and I think we're ready for it.

 

Of course though, things go by fast when you look back on everything. By now, I was five months pregnant and so glad to be out of the first trimester. Long gone were the days of boring prenatal oppointments, and throwing up in my mouth whenever I smelled Mexican food. I could wake up in the morning with a smile on my face now, and not have a reconnection with my face in the toilet--puking.

However much my health seemed to glow, another thing seemed a little awry. Though I was never really much surrounded by pregnant woman when I was growing up, being an only child, I knew what a pregnant woman was supposed to look like. She was supposed to have big boobs, a huge pregnant stomach, and be curvy with everything settling in her body. Once the fourth month trailed along, I did start to see my growing belly inch bolder and larger, but the rest of my body seemed disproportionally small. Before the pregnancy I weighed 115 pounds, now with the baby I weigh 100, and this seemed like an unhealthy drop. My arms were thinning out, as well as my face gaunt. I hadn't consulted my doctor about it because I hadn't really realized it was happening until one evening when I was lying in bed. Harry had his arms wrapped around me.

"Woah babe, I know I shouldn't really ask, but have you lost weight?" he whispered. Shocked, I turned around to face him.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I mean, well, you were thin before, but now you're really thin. Almost skeletal. Your elbow is poking me in the ribs and it really hurts. Haven't you noticed? Your cheeks have sunken in, babe, you're skin and bones!" he said worriedly.

"I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. I'll ask him about it then," I said sleepily. Harry muttered an, "okay," and slipped his arm around me again.

I woke up the next morning, Harry already gone for work, so I dressed and got ready for the doctor's. He left a note on the counter that had scribbled on it, "Let me know how the appointment goes. Xoxo." I smiled and grabbed some prenatal vitamins and a water bottle. Within an hour I was sitting in the waiting room, browsing a magazine. I wasn't the only expecting mother here. There was one other, she was creamy dark skinned with light brown eyes, high cheek bones, and a carefully combed Afro. She had a perfectly round structure, everything seemed good and healthy. I envied her rosy outlook, motherly happy. Here I was over here, I noticed my skeletal figure now. I looked sick. Twenty minutes later my name was called back. I slowly got up, and made my way to the doctor's office. I knocked carefully on the dark wood door.

"Come in," his soothing voice said quietly. I twisted to cold door handle and let myself in.

"Mrs. Styles. Yes, five months and two days, how are you?" he asked, never taking his eyes off the clipboard. I sat myself on the patient table covered in butcher paper, and placed my hands in my lap.

"Well, as you can expect, I've got all the normal signs. Swollen ankles, aching back, but my morning sickness is officially gone!" I said excitedly.

"Fantastic," Dr. Reynolds said excitedly. He was a middle aged man with a mixture of salt and pepper tones in his hair blended with dark brown. He wore light green glasses, and he had dimples when he smiled. The wrinkles around his eyes showed his tired aging, yet the ones around his mouth showed many memories of smiling. Overall he was a nice man. He scribbled down some notes down. I shifted uncomfortably on the table. My back was already hurting with no support to hold it up.

"However," I started, "my husband wanted me to get checked out on my....physical health I suppose. I've lost a considerable amount of weight, and now, I uh...." I trailed along, not exactly sure what to say. He finally lifted his eyes, which immediately widened when they landed on me.

"You say you lost some weight?" he squeaked. I nodded slowly. "Let's take your measurements," he said, leading me off the table and onto the scale. I took off my shoes and stepped onto the metal scale. He adjusted my height and balance, until it read,

"You are 98.3 pounds," he whispered, shocked. My heart sunk to my stomach. "Ms. Styles, with the growth of your baby, and your weight alone, I'm afraid you're underweight. I understand that you had a hard time getting pregnant before, is that right?" he asked, getting back into doctor mode.

"Uh, yes. We tried a few times, but, with my fast metabolism, it was hard for my body to accept. I was too skinny," I said sheepishly. I never really talked about it, but it was true.

"There's no reason to be ashamed Annabel. I assume this is a miracle baby, if you will." I nodded again. He continued to take measurements, my arms, legs, and abdomen. When he finished, it was clear that I was an out of balance freak.

"So, Doctor Reynolds, have you come up with a diagnosis?"

"Well, Annabel, the good news is, your baby is just fine. The food you're eating provides enough nutrition for the baby, however, not enough for you. Your metabolism is burning off the food that the baby doesn't eat, leaving nothing for you. I need you to eat three solid meals a day, with hefty snacks in between, plenty of fluids, and in total gain at least 25 pounds. This is very rare, tremendously uncommon among, well, anybody. I've only heard of it once occur to a woman in Indonesia," he said, reading off of a list. I smiled weakly. I knew in my mind that I had enough trouble gaining ten pounds. Twenty five?

 

It was going to take another miracle.