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I gave birth to that!

Whatever it was, it had to come out...


Published by: Heather Findley & Sarah veness
Published on: 30th June 2011

Standing in front of the bedroom mirror, I turned from side to side. There was no denying it, my tummy was definitely bigger than normal. My size 18 jeans wouldn’t do up!
This had been going on for weeks now, and I swear I hadn’t been eating any more than normal.
Chucking on a big, baggy jumper, I checked my reflection again. It looked liked a tent, but at least it covered my belly.
‘Anything to make sure Mum doesn’t notice,’ I sighed.
How much longer could I hide it from her? How much longer could I hide it from myself, refusing to admit what I knew
in my heart?
What I needed was someone to talk to. So I popped round to see my mate Jewlz.
‘Feel this,’ I told Jewlz, almost as soon as I got there, lifting my XL jumper up and putting her hand on my tummy.
Gently, she pressed her fingers into my flesh.
‘Oh,’ she gasped. ‘It doesn’t feel squidgy, like you’ve been eating too many crisps. It’s hard.’
Taking a deep breath, I asked the question that had been niggling away at the back of my mind for days. ‘Do you think I’m pregnant?’ I whispered. Just saying it out loud made me feel sick with worry.
‘Maybe,’ she frowned. ‘Do you think you could be?’
The truth was I’d been seeing a guy called Tom for a while, and we hadn’t always been as careful as we should have been.
‘Possibly,’ I confessed. ‘My period’s late too. In fact, I can’t remember when I last had one.’
‘You need to do a test,’ Jewlz said, taking my hand.
‘Oh God, Mum’s going to kill me,’ I worried. I was 18, and at college doing business studies. There was no way I was ready for a baby.
‘Let’s just wait and see what the test says,’ said Jewlz, trying to calm me down.
Still, that two-minute wait felt like an hour… ‘What’s it say?’ I asked, eyes shut tightly, not wanting to look.
‘It’s negative.’ I sagged with relief. ‘Thank God!’
‘Maybe it’s wind?’ she shrugged. ‘Or you’ve just put on a bit of weight. It’s obviously nothing to worry about.’
Over the next couple of weeks, my belly continued to grow, though, and my period was still nowhere in sight.
Was there a chance I was pregnant? Had the first test been faulty? I did a second test, but that was negative too.
Still, I couldn’t relax.
If there wasn’t a baby in there, why did I look four months pregnant? Was I going to be one of those girls who gave birth to a surprise baby?
When my swelling stomach began sending shooting pains through me when I prodded it, I was even more sure than ever there was a baby growing inside me.
‘Are you okay?’ Mum asked one night as I squirmed on the sofa, trying to get comfortable.
‘Um… I’m fine,’ I lied. ‘I must have cramp.’
How could I tell Mum I might be about to make her a grandma?
Desperate to put my mind at rest and find out if I was pregnant once and for all, I went to the family planning clinic.
For the third time in two weeks, I took a pregnancy test. And for the third time, it came back negative. ‘Are you sure?’ I asked the nurse.
‘Absolutely positive,’ she said. ‘The tests are very accurate.’
So what the heck was wrong with me? Luckily, a few days later, my period arrived and I could finally believe the results of the tests I’d taken.
My belly continued to get bigger, though.
And, a week after my period stopped, I came on again.
Okay, I clearly wasn’t pregnant, but this wasn’t right, either. Something else was wrong.
Worried, I eventually went to see my doctor.
‘I think you might have polycystic ovaries,’ he explained. ‘The syndrome can cause erratic periods and weight gain, I’ll send you for an ultrasound.’
‘W-will I be okay?’ I worried.
‘It can be controlled with medication,’ he assured me.
Back home, I felt I could finally confide in Mum.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she said. ‘Whatever happens, I’ll always be here for you.’
I was grateful for her support because when doctors decided I didn’t have polycystic ovaries, I needed someone to lean on.
‘They want to do more tests on me,’ I worried to Mum. ‘An MRI, CT scan, blood tests…’
‘They’re just being thorough,’ she said, reassuringly.
‘I’m putting on weight, but there’s no baby, and no cysts,’ I wailed. ‘I just want to know what’s wrong with me!’
Finally, I saw the consultant. ‘We’ve found a tumour on your left ovary,’ he told me.
Mum clutched my hand, wound her fingers through mine.
‘We’ll need to operate to remove it,’ he continued. ‘Only then will we know if it’s cancerous.’
Cancerous?!
All this time I’d been worried about being pregnant when it was something so much worse.
A week later, I went into theatre for the operation.
Coming round afterwards, I was so groggy that I could barely focus on anything.
But, through the fog of voices, something stood out.
‘The tumour was cancerous, Jodie,’ someone was saying. ‘We had to remove your left ovary.’
‘Okay…’ I mumbled, too drugged up to take it in.
It was only after I’d recovered from surgery I discovered exactly what I’d been through.
‘The tumour was huge,’ the doctor told me. 
‘How huge?’ I panicked.
‘It was 2ft long,’ he said, gesturing with his hands.
Two feet – that was bigger than a newborn baby!
‘This is what it looked like,’ he said. As I gawped at him, the doctor handed me a photo.
I recoiled in horror.
Flesh-coloured and covered in veins, the tumour looked like a giant haggis.
It was so huge, the hands of the surgeon holding it looked tiny.
The only good thing about it was that getting rid of it had made me drop two dress sizes in a day!
More tests followed, which thankfully confirmed the cancer hadn’t spread and I didn’t need
any further treatment.
Now, all I’m left with is a 10in scar down my tummy through my belly button.
What’s more, I can still have kids. So hopefully one day, when I’m ready, I’ll give birth to a baby – not a tumour!
Jodie Bendelow, 19, Stanley, Co Durham