Labor Day weekend of 2014 was our last float down the creek that summer. It was such a great, memorable, leech-stuck to my foot, party kind of weekend with friends. A few days later, while at work, it hit me. Like I really KNEW…you know? There was no denying it. I had those symptoms many years before with a pregnancy that didn’t progress very far. My work buds knew something was up and a co-worker jokingly asked if I was pregnant. I just blurted out yes, even though I hadn’t even told my boyfriend yet. He was on a sketchy 3 day special project for his job, and I didn’t want to distract him with the big news. Just a day later, I caved and broke the news.
We didn’t have the typical, lovely dovey pregnancy that every girl dreams of. It took him a minute to come around, but he was there, showed up when I asked him to, and did the best he could at the time. We weren’t announcing it to the world, doing facebook posts and updates, or even really planning anything. I was about 7 months along before we seriously started talking names. But you know what this guy was great at? I mean like the best ever? While I was in the prime of my pregnancy, he had to make several trips to a larger city an hour away from us. You know what’s in bigger cities? Cheesecake Factory. Cheeeesecake. This dude was bringing me cheesecake from Cheesecake Factory! Straight up living my best life. My doctor was not thrilled, but couldn’t say much besides…”let’s try to not have any more 10lb/month gains.”
I (barely) failed my first glucose test but ate better before my do-over and did fine. I have mixed feelings on this test now and should have done more research. Maybe I just felt like it was what I was supposed to do at the time? However, if you choose to do so, don’t be scared- its not half as bad as what people make it out to be. Another one of my issues is that I held so much fluid! Within 2 weeks postpartum, I dropped 40 of my 60lb weightgain. Since I am a small framed person, my body didn’t care for having that much weight on it, and lead to a stabby stabbing pain in my back that was just miserable. My last issue was the stomach bug that hit me at 30 weeks. I had to go to ER for fluids and bounced back pretty quickly, but that is not what you want going on when you are already uncomfortable.
People tell you to rest and sleep before you have the baby because you won’t sleep when the bundle of joy arrives. This is total bullshit. The last leg of pregnancy is exhausting. You feel like you have a hundred things to do (and you do) to get ready for the baby. Rest isn’t getting any of that done. Every time you get comfortable, you have to get up to pee. You are running out of room and the kid is stretching and has no wiggle room. Don’t get me started on lightening crotch- it’s a thing! You get to the point where you just want the kid out, but you are trying your best to be patient and cook the baby as long as you can. Then the thought of actually transitioning from pregnant to keeping a human alive gives you enough anxiety to embrace the discomfort. Gone are the days of the once a month, check in to weigh and measure, chatty/planning, fully clothed OBGYN appointments. Now you are going weekly, and soon start getting checked for dilation.
One fine Saturday night around midnight, I noticed I wasn’t feeling so great and checked my blood pressure. 188/99 was a bit on the too high side, so I said- “Let’s Go!” We checked into our local, nearby hospital in the wee hours of a Sunday morning. Since I was at 38 weeks, wasn’t responding to induction meds, and my blood pressure wouldn’t come down, I had a c-section at 8:30 Sunday evening.
The next few days at the hospital were rough, and we were glad to get settled in at home. Part of me wishes we would have been able to do it again, but I was 35 when I had her, and went through x-ray school when she turned one. Ninety-nine percent of my days, my hands and heart are full and our family is complete…and that’s perfectly fine with me.