By Charlie Emilia
This millennial content creator, social media geek, part-time healthy person and now first-time mom is coming back to her original roots as a writer. Formerly a radio show, “Chill Out with Charlie” was a peek into my life and what I had going on. Since leaving the airwaves, my journey has taken an extreme turn. For updates on what’s been happening, sit back and chill out with me as I navigate these new paths in a whole new way.
Honestly, it makes no sense to start at the beginning. What does help is for me to give a bit of context: About two years ago, I was diagnosed with fibroids, which had to be surgically removed. It was quite an ordeal and it has continued to turn my life upside down.
“It wasn’t until I saw pictures of the actual procedure and what was inside me that I fully grasped what I had been dealing with. It was disgusting… My first night back home, I had an anxiety attack… Almost four weeks post-op and I’m feeling more like me, but a different me. This has been a life changing experience. It has matured and humbled me greatly. I’m still figuring out what that means, but I’m optimistic about who I am going to become.” ~Part of Me Removed, originally published on January 9, 2018.
A few months after this was printed, I was able to get back into the swing of things, and I went about discovering what it meant to be this new me. With this came a lot of changes and a new outlook and even a brand new drive time radio show. I’m thankful for my time there, since I was able to reach a lot of people, many of whom I wouldn’t have if had I not decided to take the opportunity. However, my tenure there was short-lived.
Shortly after leaving my show, I developed more fibroids on my womb. It’s an inexplicable feeling to know you’ve just been through so much and would inevitably be thrown back into the same fray. This time may be worse, as these came with more rapidly aggressive growth. The options were pretty bleak: my gynaecologist went from discussing the removal of fibroids to removing the entire womb. How was it possible that this was my reality? I still check the “25-30” age-box on surveys and now I was having conversations about removing my entire womb!? One thing was certain, these little bastards did not deserve names or romanticism.
The first thing that stuck with me after my first surgery was impending infertility. For a long time, even the pictures of the removed tumours made me feel disgusting and unenthusiastic about the future of my womb. I thought less of myself and it became somewhat of an insecurity. Admittedly, this made me face more of my external issues than the internal turmoil. I continue to attribute my progress to regular sessions with a therapist who has become a great friend, and regimens of healthy eating and exercise of which some were more intense than others.
It was around this time that I chose to stop looking at myself as a “tumour grower” and to instead start focusing more on my value as a person – freestanding of fertility. As a woman, facing the reality of having to remove such an integral part of yourself, you start to re-evaluate your worth as a person. The waves of shock passed surprisingly fast, perhaps because I had already tossed around the idea in my head, and maybe it was because I had been there before and it made me a veteran in the war of disappointment. The funny thing is that this news was less stressful in terms of procreation, and more for me as a woman – as a person. I could live without children, but could I live without children and a womb? Ultimately, I chose to fight for what I could salvage from the remnants of my reproductive organs.
And thus began my intense deep-dive into all that I could do to save myself. In essence, I’d given up on myself as a mother, deciding instead to save myself as a woman. There may not have been certainty for passing on my genetic quirks, but no matter the outcome, I was stuck in the body I was given. Because of this thought, I became a shining beacon of restraint and abstinence. Monks were envious of my reserve and dedication to this lifestyle. I did extensive research and became obsessed. Back to Eden, a book my mother used to swear by, was a holistic bible for my journey into better health. I was resolute in my fight for me. If these fibroids wanted to battle, I refused to be caught off-guard.
The process started by removing alcohol from my diet. I wasn’t a heavy drinker, but I did enjoy a Guinness now and then, which is still the only thing I genuinely missed about the transition. Dairy was already relatively absent from the start, but I gave up all its by-products, including butter, which I consider to be the best of them. Around the same time dairy was out the door, so was processed sugar and sugar alternatives. Essentially, my diet was plant-based, soy-free and completely based on whole foods. Just based on having researched and looked at my lifestyle from a realistic point of view, I knew it wasn’t completely sustainable for a long period of time, but the goal was to feed the body as much nutrient-dense food as possible in order for it to gain enough strength to shrink those little buggers.
Around month two or three down my holistic path, I found myself feeling another familiar bump. I’ll be honest, after having given up so much, it felt very disheartening. It was as if everything I’d been doing before hadn’t even slowed down the process! But I remained optimistic and knew that change wouldn’t come in one month, or two; it would take at least a few more months for my body to adjust and be able heal. However, there was one factor I didn’t take into consideration, and it was dismissed as quickly as it crossed my mind. It would be days later that one of my colleagues would mention how full I looked and point out that my new nausea probably wasn’t from PMS.
Skipping over much of the cringe-worthy parts, you probably guessed that instead of finding another fibroid, my doctor found a whole other little thing growing inside of me. There’s something to be said about the mysteries of the human body and its ability to surprise. Even more can be said for the female body preparing itself to grow, and eventually deliver life into this world. I think I’ll stop here for this week and pick up again in the next edition. I’ll tell you all with tales of how many surprises pregnancy can bring; many of which nobody tells you.
Make sure to follow me on Facebook.com/LikeCharlieEmilia or my Instagram Chvrl13. I’m open to questions, comments and any concerns you may have about your own health. But please remember I am not a doctor. My column is strictly for entertainment and although I may try my utmost to give accurate information, it should in no way replace a visit to your healthcare provider. Until next time, drive safely!
