Moving On & Growing Up

     So, here I was, almost 14 years old and I had just experienced something that no one I knew had experienced. I had no common bond with anyone I knew. Making friends again was awkward and difficult, at best. I was happy to have the cast off for good, immediately feeling a sense of relief that people wouldn't be staring at me anymore. However, I soon was constantly inundated with the same question, over and over again, from people I knew and from strangers. It was "How come you stand so straight?” Although I was happy to have the whole scoliosis saga behind me, I still felt "different". Everything I did was done differently, whether it was bending over to tie my shoes, or just sitting. I was young and limber then though, which made it easier to "compensate" and use other muscles and ligaments to facilitate the way my body moved. Things were progressing slowly and I was very tentatively getting back to life as a "normal" 14 year old. Sort of anyway. Another situation that bothered me alot was going to the beach. Of course, one-piece bathing suits were not in fashion for a 14 year old back in 1975, so as I headed to the beach that summer in a bikini, I was mortified at how many people - mostly strangers- would literally stop and ask me about my "scar". "Wow" they would say, "What happened to you?". It got to be that I would just lay on the blanket all day and not go into the water anymore. Soon one-piece bathings suits became popular and that helped a lot. I soon realized that if I bought bathings suits that came up high on the back and my hair was long, no one would know. Here, I no longer had a cast to bog me down, but I was still feeling like I had something to "cover up". I was still hiding. To this day, I am astounded by the random, complete strangers who will STILL come up to me at the beach and ask me about my scar. I find it mortifying on two accounts. Number #1, I would NEVER do that. My mother always taught me to never bring things like that to attention, so as to spare someone's feelings. Number #2, doesn't everyone know that it is upsetting to be addressed on personal matters? And personally, I would consider a horrific scar that runs down the length of one's spine to be of a personal nature. When I was younger, I would be so embarassed. Now, I'm old enough to recognize the absurdity of tactless people and I can easily look someone in the eye and say, "I don't really think it is any of your business". Because frankly, it isn't.


     One night during the summer of '76, I was watching a TV movie late at night. Everyone was in bed but me. It was hot and the windows were open and I was intently following the movie. I really don't recall the name of it or even the premise, but there was a scene that made me jolt up off the couch and I found myself so engrossed in the story line. It was about a woman who had just had a baby and she was unable to give birth naturally and they had to perform a cesarean section and the woman went into a deep depression because of this. All of a sudden, I recalled that my mother had asked Dr. Hardy about my having children and his response was that I may have to have a cesarean section!! I hadn't thought much of it at the time, but for some reason, now I did. OMG! Did this mean I was not a "real" woman? Did this mean that if I couldn't do it "normally", that I wasn't "worthy". I didn't sleep all night, I was aghast at the sudden comprehension of all of this. As soon as my mother awoke the next morning, I was sitting on the couch waiting for her. She looked at me and asked, "What's wrong?" and I started crying. She came over and said, "What is it?" and I told her about the TV movie and how I was suddenly feeling awful that I probably wouldn't be able to give birth naturally and she smiled and said, "Valerie, HOW the baby is born is not really all that important, it's the mother that you will be that will matter" but I wasn't hearing any of it. I was devastated. I became obsessed with the notion of a having to have a cesarean section and I don't remember when it passed, but it finally did. But somehow, I really just buried it and those feeling of despair would come back to me in years to come.

     I went through the High School years with very little ramification from the surgeries. Usually people seemed impressed and downright jealous that my posture was so superb and I was able to get out of taking gym in 11th and 12th grade. Ya-hoo! I HATE physical activity! I'm a couch potato! Always was and always will be. I was at an appointment with Dr. Hardy in 11th grade and I told him that someone knocked me over during a basketball game and he was appalled and said, "Well, we can't be having that happen! No more gym, are you okay with that?" I wanted to say, "Are you kidding me? ARE YOU KIDDING ME??" Truth be told, I could have jumped for joy! He just made me the happiest 11th grader ever. I can proudly say I haven't touched a basketball since! Ha! Ha! I did however start doing something else that Dr. Hardy never said I couldn't, and yet I have no doubt now, harmed me. Running. During the summer before I was a senior, I started running a little bit with a friend of sister's. Her name was Carol and she was on the track team and I don't recall how she managed to get me involved, but I found myself hating and loving it. I went from panting and not being able to run a 1/8 mile to running 2 miles. I was so proud of myself, but mostly I loved that I was losing weight. My sister Michele was always thin and I was tired of everyone commenting how I was "chubby". Well, yeah maybe compared to her, but I was NOT chubby. I am a bigger-boned person than her, but I look back now and how foolish to have felt "fat". I was 5'5" and I weighed 118 lbs. Michele was the same height but weighed about 105!! All I can say is I'd doing anything to weigh 118 again!! As soon as Carol and Michele headed to college, I gave up the running because none of my friends were into that. I didn't miss it.

     I graduated from HS in June 1979 and everything was going swimmingly. I was still seeing Dr. Hardy and I had now progressed to only having to see him every 2 years. He would always examine me and take x-rays and tell me how good I looked, how impressed he was with his work on me and how I was a "success" story. Everything was perfect! Regrettably, I didn't choose college. I went to work at Westerly Jewelry Co., Inc. right after HS. The years passed, I became engaged and married at 21 and then my world came to a crashing halt. My mother, the wisest and strongest woman I have ever known, unexpectedly died. My dear mother passed away on September 4, 1985 from a massive and sudden heart attack. She was all of 5 feet and I think the only time she probably ever weighted more than a hundred pounds was when she was pregnant with me or one of my sisters. Remember, I call her the "granola cruncher". Other than having smoked cigarettes since she was about 12 or 14 years old, my mother was basically a healthy person. Obviously, she was not overweight, she loved to exercise (I didn't inherit that desire!) she adored fresh foods, including an array of fruits and vegetables. My mother’s idea of a "treat" was a nice, ripe plum in the evening. I'd be dreaming of chocolate truffles and she'd say, "Want a peach?” Ay-yi-yi!! I mean I love fruit too, but c'mon - how about a little chocolate, you know? The only real sweets that she liked was pie. Fruit pies, she adored. Like blueberry or strawberry. I was devastated by her sudden death and to this day, I am still not sure I have ever healed. It was a very emotionally traumatic period in my life, but my mother had done a fine job raising her daughters. We are all very strong and independent women and we were taught that nothing can get you down if you don't let it, and I decided early on that what my mother would have really wanted was for me to hold my chin up and move on. I have tried to do that every day since her death, some days proving to be easier than others. As they say, life does indeed go on, for what other choice do we have? I look back now, at 48 years old, and I realize what a phenomenal woman my mother really was and I only wish I could have her back for even just one day so that I could tell her how proud I am to be her daughter. She taught me well, I'd describe myself as having a fair amount of wisdom and common sense and I no doubt, get that from her. My mother was definitely not what one would have considered "book smart" (and neither am I!) but I realize now that she really was one of the smartest women I have ever known. If you're around Mom, thank you and I love you. But I am still really, really mad at you for dying on me!

     I stayed employed full-time at Westerly Jewelry right up until the birth of my first child, my daughter Erica Rose, in July 1988. Labor was very difficult, lasting well over 24 hours. I experienced horrendous back labor pain because she was in a posterior position in the birth canal. Delivery was finally accomplished with the use of forceps and I was able to say that Dr. Hardy was wrong - no c-sect for me! I was so very proud of that fact. However, I almost wished afterwards that I did have a C-sect. Erica was only 7 lbs. 6 oz. but she was most certainly too big for me to deliver. I couldn't even sit for days! Ouch! The labor was so awful, I was certain that I wouldn't be having anymore babies, C-sect or natural delivery, I was done with that!! I had only gained 17 lbs. with Erica, which I lost quite quickly and soon resumed a moderate exercise plan with videos that I would do while Erica napped or on the treadmill. I bounced right back and I felt no ill effects of the pregnancy on my back. I was 27 years old, I was healthy and felt great, and I had a healthy baby girl. What more could anyone ask for? Life was good.