TL;DR: pregnancy sucked, pretty baby, postpartum sucked (still sucks)
January 15th, 2015 I had a baby. Me... this girl.. the one who has many old posts about wanting a baby and having no luck. I.. Had.. A.. Baby..
And he is beautiful.
It's true what people say.. you don't know how much you can love something till you see your child for the first time. It's amazing, heartbreaking, breathtaking, almost traumatizing how you feel when you first see them. And then every day after, it's the same, and I'm really ok with that.
Having this boy has also made me love my husband more. I wasn't sure I could love him more, but apparently when a baby is born they bring extra bags to hold more love in.. and boy did this kid come with some "baggage."
I wish I could say that this whole process was heaven..
The most beautiful thing I have ever been though..
But it was not.
Here is me.. being Honest..
Pregnancy for me sucked ass. Always.. Never got better, never liked it one bit.
I woke up on May 15th.. eyes snapped open, head still on my pillow, first thought of my day.. "I'm pregnant".
I wasn't sure how to feel. I was numb. I got up and told the husband that I was going to take a pregnancy test just so I knew.
I can't tell you how many pregnancy tests I've taken.. however I was surprised that the test I had stashed away in the bathroom wasn't expired. I had given up hope long ago and actually had come to terms with and was really ok with not having children. I was 35 years old.. I was happy to live the rest of my life just my husband and I.
So I peed on the damn stick.... and you know how it goes..
Pee on the stick.. set it on the edge of the bathtub and sit there and stare at it for 3 minutes waiting to see what happens..
That isn't what happened....
hand between my legs.. peed on stick.. pulled stick up to put cap back on.. already 2 pink lines.. already a confirmation I was, in fact, pregnant.
I called for the husband.. he came around the corner.. I said.. "I'm pregnant." <-- a="" and="" crying="" down..="" exclamation="" jumping="" just="" no="" p="" point..="" screaming="" simple="" statement.="" up="">He stood in the doorway and said "hmm". Then we both went about our day as if nothing happened.
We were just waiting for it to fall apart.. why wouldn't it. We had been trying for 7 years.
Nothing fell apart.
Days turned into weeks.. Doctor appointments confirmed a healthy pregnancy. We heard the heartbeat and I had massive anxiety going to the doctors as I was sure eventually they wouldn't find that heartbeat.
Suddenly I was nauseous. All smells were awful, some were unbearable. I had massive food aversions to the foods I most loved.. potatoes, soda, pasta, cheese.. CHEESE!!
My body ached. I slowed way, way, down. I was frustrated at my body. I felt betrayed. I hated looking at myself in the mirror. I wanted my old body back! Looking at myself after a shower for too long made me sick to my stomach. It wasn't that I was ugly.. just it wasn't ME. It took me years to love myself and to not hate the way I looked and I was right back there.. 14 years old.. looking in the mirror at my legs, my arms my face and hating the way I looked.
I put clothes on and went about my day.
People loved to pick on me.. apparently it is fun to give the pregnant woman a hard time and I was just supposed to smile and take it. There she is.. 3 minutes late to work today. Your having twins i'm sure.. Pregnany women are cranky.. why are you so cranky? WOAH.. here comes the belly.
Other times people thought they were being helpful.. but really.. why can't I pick up a ream of paper.. it weights maybe 3 damn pounds! Overly protective women and jackass men. Everyday.. someone said or did something. Because I'm pregnant and apparently the obvious target and an invalid.
Everyday I walked slower, had more of a waddle, had worse heartburn.. finally starting liking some foods again just to find out I had gestational diabetes..
So now I have to prick my fingers 4 times a day and watch what I eat and can't have some of those favorite foods that I had just started liking again.
I was so uncomfortable I could no longer sleep in my bed. So we bought a recliner and put it in our bedroom and I slept there for months. I missed my bed.
I would have to say the absolute best part was finding out boy or girl. And a BOY he was! Fist pumping in the air. We are having a boy!
Then he decided to make sure I knew he was there and the kicking, punching and karate chopping commenced. Sometimes it was amazing to feel him move. The anxiety stopped between doctor appointments. But now I was being beaten up on a regular basis. Time he would kick/hit me so hard my whole body would shift.
One thing I was pretty happy about was the lack of stretch marks.. that is until they showed up.. there were a couple but then apparently they decided to throw a family reunion and all their cousins showed up and decided not to leave. (granted.. this is probably the oddest thing that doesn't really bother me.. so what.. i have stretch marks on my belly.. meh.. don't care)
I got bigger, I got slower and then bring on BRAXTON HICKS! So many contractions. So annoying. Work got hard as I have to get up and down a lot. I didn't mind sitting or walking so much but the constant up and down was really difficult. Then having contractions on the phone while talking to clients.. FUN TIMES! Try to stay concentrated on that conversation and not let people hear the wind being punch right out of you.
Christmas eve at my in-laws contractions started.. I paced their living room for probably 3 hours.. then went home and continued to pace the floor for 3 more hours. They were never close enough or long enough for a long enough duration for me to go to the hospital. It was not labor. I had another 2 nights where I had 6-8 hours of contractions. The last day of them was the evening before I was to be induced. The night that I wanted to try and get as much rest as possible. I was up for hours.
The next evening we finished packing our bags and headed to the hospital at 8pm (1/14/15). I got there.. we got settled and I got hooked up and the process of labor was started for me.
Thankfully it wasn't a terribly long process. The evening wasn't bad and I got pain medication that allowed me to sleep. In the morning just before they started the Pitocin my water broke. And then we were off.. things got more intense.. my mom showed up and we decided to take a walk. I threw up twice and then decided I couldn't take the pain anymore
I never finished this post. I'm sure life with a baby kept me away
Here it is about a year and a half later and I'm standing here wartching over baby #2 hoping and praying she will drift off to sleep. Mom needs a break.
So much of this story from my sons birth was the same with my daughter. I however had less anxiety.
My sons birth was easy however the recovery was intense and awful. Many many weeks stuck in my house in the little of winter unable to move without massive pain.
This time recovery was quite different. I'll have to write about that while it is still fresh in my mind.