So I will.
Even if it's a little late.
Babe's pregnancy/birth story.
See, I told you it was late.
But in the end I figure she'll enjoy it the same even if I didn't post it days after it happened right? I mean, she's only just now starting to read, so, it's not like she's been scrolling through this blog wondering why I didn't post this before.
John and I were wanting to get pregnant. Like, we should have bought stock in pregnancy tests. It seemed I was constantly peeing on little white sticks.
One month I decided to stop. The anticipation, the disappointment-it was too much emotion for me to handle month after month. It was, of course, that month that it seemed person after person looked at me stating "you're pregnant". Despite my insistence that I wasn't, one of my friends (and John) wouldn't buy it. So much so, that she drags me (and John and her husband) to her apartment to use one of her pregnancy tests.
It was negative.
See? I wasn't pregnant. I was never pregnant.
We had only been married about 5 months. Yeah, I was impatient.
Meanwhile, John and I had a paper route. Wake up at 3am, drive around, throw papers. It was actually fun, we'd each take a side of the street and race to see who could make it back to the car first. We enjoyed the time working together. Well, one morning I was feeling a bit sick. We did the route but we didn't race. Then I'd ask John to take this street. Then that street. Bit by John filled in for what I couldn't seem to do. Not so happily. He was getting fairly annoyed (and sarcastic). "Yeah, sure, and you only happen to get sick in the mornings!"
You see where this is going, right? It's pretty obvious in retrospect but for some reason we were both pretty clueless.
When I finally started to catch on I took a test when John was at work (one of our other jobs-washing cars, I believe).
I left the test on the bathroom sink and paced around the apartment until John got home. Thinking, near daydreaming, about how I would tell him. I'm pregnant. We're pregnant. You're going to be a father. Hi, dad. When I hear the door knob turn.
And he barrels past me-he needs to go to the bathroom.
Yep, not only was it totally not daydreamy at all...but I also left the test by the sink.
He knows.
And I didn't even get to try to be cutesy or sentimental.
He comes out, straight-faced.
"You saw it?"
"Yep."
::pause::
::smile::
::hug::
"Well I already knew you were pregnant."
Yeah, yeah. Thanks, honey:)
So we finally got clued in as to why I mysteriously was sick during the paper route and John took it over. The morning sickness got pretty bad. If I didn't get steak then I would throw up all day long-no joke. If I did get steak then I'd only throw up until 2pm. Again, no joke. Poor John tried making them at home, too, but it didn't work. So when we could we ate at Applebee's. I'd eat half at the restaurant and save the other half for morning so I could limit the...expulsions. (Is there any polite way to say that?)
And again, poor John, that gave him a lot of cleaning to do. You see, walking gave me motion sickness and despite the bathroom's close proximity to our bedroom, I never made it. Literally, I never threw up in the toilet. We had garbage cans strategically placed throughout the apartment.
When it got to the point that I was starting to loose weight (not too much, but starting) I told my doctor.
In my defense, I just assumed that everyone got that sick. I mean, almost all pregnant women I had met complained about morning sickness.
Needless to say, I got on some anti-nausea medicine and that significantly reduced the intensity.
Most people take a lot of preggo pictures, especially with their first. With a TON of nausea the first half and crazy weight gain the second, this is one of the few pictures of me pregnant with Babe. I was about halfway through at this point.
The other major preggo symptom I had was this obnoxious rash. It was right at the end. The last month or so. I had gained about 50lbs, it was June/July so I was even more swollen then I might have been otherwise, and then I get a rash. We're talking bright red hives. That's right. On top of an extra 50lbs and swollen hands and feet and (probably) face I also was bright red with creepy bumps all over. Try to picture that. On second thought, no, please don't. It was bad enough that when people would come over I'd go to another room and John would explain to them how I looked before I came in. I like to think it was so they didn't think I was contagious. It was probably just so they could temper their initial reaction.
My doctor told me that sometimes we react to the pregnancy and all the hormones. Other than trying to keep me comfortable there wasn't much he could do. Actually, at one appointment he did tell me that he had a magic solution. It would solve everything. The swelling, the rash-I'd probably even lose some weight! Magic solution. It was called "Labor". I got a good laugh out of that one (let me tell you, it's way fun having a doctor you can laugh with).
That overview brings us up to the end of the pregnancy. I think I'll save the birth for another post:)
