I’m writing this based upon my days of finding out I was pregnant. While I have heard that most women and their significant others jump for joy at the prospect of expecting. Perhaps my husband and I are from some odd planet, but we always seem to be a bit short on the ecstatic side. Not that we aren’t happy. I think the fear sets in first. Happiness comes later.
To begin with we were newly married, very naive and young. I was twenty-six and so was he. We had been together since high school so it was expected that we start “trying” immediately. So, like a good Catholic girl, I did. Four months after our marriage, I was late—one day was all I needed to know that something was amiss. So, naturally I went out and purchased the double pack of the trusty EPT test. Two tests later, my husband and I were sitting on the edge of the bathtub pondering the future. I believe the words we expressed were, “what the %@ck have we done!” We were both terrified. Nobody we were friends with had kids, heck our friends weren’t married yet! Nevertheless here we were and pregnant.
Now, I am not the type of woman who relished the whole pregnancy experience. The getting fat part was awful for me. I felt like everyone was staring at me. And if one more person tried to touch my stomach without asking, I swear someone was going to lose a hand! I mean, where do these people get off? If I was just fat, do you think they would reach out to touch my stomach? I think not! But I endured every test; did I mention my horrific fear of needles? Trust me, getting pregnant will cure you of that! The development of gestational diabetes was fun (not!). Oh, and did I mention I bled for five months and no doctor could figure out why? Yet, time went on and frequent ultrasounds confirmed that my baby boy was fine.
I think it all really came to light the day of the real ultrasound where we could find out the sex. I remember staring at the print out of my son’s profile. It was so familiar. The same profile I saw in the mirror. I was smitten. Then I couldn’t wait for him to come out.
Fast forward to delivery. I went early. Rather unheard of for a first pregnancy. Only four days but let’s face it. I was so done with this pregnancy thing. I was huge, felt like a turtle every time I laid down because I couldn’t get back up without rolling off the bed. My ankles swelled, as did my feet. I certainly was a lovely sight to see!
First off, my water never broke. I kept waiting but it never did. But the contractions were there. Everyone said they were Braxton hicks. Pretty darn painful for that but what did I know. Did I mention I was naive? Finally when the contractions were five to seven minutes apart, I called the doctor. Immediately alarmed he asked me why I hadn’t called sooner. It was three in the morning. I didn’t want to bother anyone I said. He said, by all means, bother me!
All in all it was a very interesting experience. In the end my very mild mannered husband wound up losing his temper and throwing all the interns out of the room. It was a free for all. Every ten minutes some kid would come up with a chart and ask the most ridiculous questions. Finally, I told them that if they needed my history, they should get a copy of it from the other twenty-five interns who obtained it. Then my husband got pissed off and said, that’s it! Everyone out! About forty-five minutes after that our son was born. That was almost seven years ago.
So last week I realized that my period never came. So, I dutifully went to the store and obtained my EPT’s. After both tests were taken and those little plus signs were evident. I knew the truth. My son is about to be a big brother.
We didn’t sit on the edge of the tub this time. We did a lot of staring though. Back to diapers! Late night feedings. Are we really going to do this again! The answer is yes. Most certainly we will. Only this time I’m not putting up with people touching my stomach or interns in the delivery room. I look forward again to the moment when I see the ultrasound of my next child’s profile.
Oh yeah, one more thing. I will bother the doctor and anyone who can give me pain medication.