How I Stayed in America (Part 28)

Yes, Stepan’s birth went super well! After the latter though, there was some heavy bleeding, which did not stop, and for some reason, high blood pressure. I have a terrible reaction to an epidural or spinal anesthetic. I can’t stand them! I begin shaking terribly. Yet, the delivery itself was great. After a cesarean, females are usually sent to intensive care, for about an hour or two, so they could come to their senses. I

think that the main reason is to have a chance to remove all harmful drugs from the system through a dropper, as well as being able to bring the baby closer to the chest.

While I was laying down in intensive care, Stepan sucked his grandmother’s finger — that’s how much he wanted to eat! Therefore, as soon as it was possible to give him some breast milk, he immediately grabbed it and sucked out the colostrum. He is now eleven years old and still has a great appetite. My milk arrived late as usual, on the fourth day, and it was sorely lacking. My nipples were black, that is, one continuous bruise, with cracks and bleeding. Many claimed that he simply took the wrong breast, that it shouldn’t bleed. It shouldn’t, but my son asked for a breast every forty minutes. As a matter of fact, at the hospital I was assigned a Mormon nurse, who was a specialist in breastfeeding techniques. She was able to set the technique, but my nipples were still black. I continued to breastfeed very persistently. My husband looked horrified while witnessing all this. “Listen, it’s quite obvious that this isn’t working out for you. Why are you doing this to yourself?” my husband asked me. As a result, for a month and a half, I still tried to feed my baby, and then we smoothly switched to a bottle.

Moreover, throughout my pregnancy, I was very active in sports. Fortunately, our new home was full of excellent gym equipment. I bought a reformer and a cadillac to do some pilates, and a trainer came to see me almost every day. I exercised almost until the child’s birth itself. Physically, I felt great. In my second pregnancy, I managed to gain about fifteen kilograms, which was a huge achievement compared to my first pregnancy when I used to indulge endless fries with Oreo shakes. During the second pregnancy, everything was more hyendous. We had a chef named Michelle, who controlled my food, however, fifteen kilograms were still gained. I remember a certain elite Moscow slimmer, to whom my friends sent me to “lose weight” after giving the first birth. They stated that Malysheva herself went to see her. So, when she saw me for the first time, she was shocked: “When the whole modern world is gaining five, maximum seven kilograms, you treated

yourself like an animal!!!” – she told me at the first meeting. Yes, I did live like an animal during my first  pregnancy.  Nonetheless,  I  approached the second one more responsibly. Furthermore, the Moscow slimmer couldn’t help me, I broke up with her right after the third session. The essence of her weight loss was a strict diet (some kind of bell pepper   and buckwheat), and classes were held at her apartment according to  the following scenario: she wrapped her client’s body  in  plastic  bags and counted repetitively for forty minutes. We lifted our legs or body  and sweated. As a result, the body would lose liquid, so she did not   allow any drinking. During the third session, I began criticizing her method, and so for the rest of my life I remained ten kilograms heavier than before.

Michelle cooked wonderful healthy food. Of course, a chef living with  you is a fantastic luxury! After giving birth, I almost instantly got into shape. Two weeks after the cesarean, I flew to Los Angeles for a day to make some purchases, while unloading some milk. Obviously, I took the breast pump with me. The black driver, assigned to me for the whole  day, was perplexed: I was constantly buzzing with a pump. When I returned home to my baby, I realized that two people had run away   from me: the nanny and the cook Michelle. They fled in different directions and for different reasons. Both, however, could not stand   their life in Utah. The nanny wanted to return to Moscow to her boyfriend, and Michelle wanted to go somewhere where she could buy alcohol in the evenings. Not that she was an alcoholic, she was just unhappy in Utah.