In honor of Mother's Day, I thought I'd share a fun short story written by my mom. No doubt, a tribute to me, her No. 6. Or at least I like to think I was her inspiration... Happy Mother's Day to all; especially to my Momma.
Another in a continuing series of dramatic vignettes…
Tulip Toad - Saga Six with Streit
Georgia H. Nichols
Her mind wasn’t on the outdated “People” magazine she was idly thumbing through as she waited for her turn to see the doctor.
“I’ll kill myself if I’ve gained any weight this time. I haven’t even had an appetite, and the rabbit food I do eat sure can’t produce any pounds. Let’s see, I wore the lightest weight clothing I own and made sure I went to the bathroom first. Plus I haven’t had as much as a drink of water in the last 22 hours. Maybe I even lost”
“Tulip Toad? This way please.” The nurse led the procession of two to the weigh-in room.
Tulip exuded confidence as she stepped onto the scales. But her momentary elation was short lived. The pound weight pushed the bar down at 134, 135, then 136. The nurse flicked it a few more increments and it rose only a fraction before the weight bar balanced. “One thirty six and three quarters.” Four pounds in three weeks—again!
The dazed patient reeled as she stepped backward off the scales. “Impossible,” she wanted to scream. “A recheck, please!”
But she had seen the scale herself. Could it be that there was some kind of conspiracy to make her depressed every time she visited the doctor? A four pound jump every time was beginning to sound suspicious.
Tulip was numb as she followed the nurse down the hall to the examining room. Where had those pounds come from? She was still numb as she stumbled onto the table and mentally reviewed the weight progress in the five previous pregnancies. At this present rate she could top out at 180 pounds and be a blimp for the rest of her life. Before, she had been upset with a weight gain of a pound or two and an occasional jump of five pounds but this was too much. She thought of her husband’s attempts to console her.
“Don’t worry. I’ve head all of this before and the weight has just dropped off after the baby is born. It will again.”
But things were different now. She was 36—and over the hill. An old woman.
Tulip ruminated over the two alternatives she might employ to get rid of the hated pounds: never eat again or take a knife and cut out a pound of flesh here and there. Neither sounded like a plausible solution.
Her thoughts were still picturing herself in the before photo of an Ayds ad, when Dr. Streit came into the room and began checking uterus size and listening for the baby’s heartbeat. “Just about right for 20 weeks,” he announced when he had finished. “Everything seems fine.”
“But I’m not 20 weeks. I’m only about 14,” Tulip intercepted.
“Hmmmm.” The doctor looked at her chart again. “Let me take another check.” This time the probing was more intense.
“Maybe there really is some reason I’ve gained so much weight,” Tulip silently hoped as she waited for the doctor’s second observation.
“First of all,” the doctor began, “an oversized uterus is not uncommon in pregnancy. It doesn’t mean twins, or even that you’ll deliver early. It’s just a condition we see from time to time.”
“But I also weigh more at this point in any of my previous pregnancies.” Tulip seized on that thought hoping it clarified the situation.
“Doesn’t mean a thing. See you in three weeks,” the doctor reminded her as he left the room. The door closed.
She’d heard it all before. So she was just fat after all. It didn’t seem fair. It wasn’t fair, she was starving! Another agonizing three weeks ahead of her. “Yeah, and since I’m going to weigh 145 pounds by then I intend to eat hearty and enjoy myself.” Her words bounced off the walls.
Tulip couldn’t resist a wicked glance at the scales as she walked to the receptionist’s desk. Two could play the weight game as well as one could. Next time there would be a reason for the four pounds. Already she was beginning to look forward to supper.