On December 21, 2009, I found out I was pregnant. I actually knew it before I even took the test...which was weird since I had never been pregnant before. I sensed that I was going to have a baby. I kept the secret to myself for over 24 hours, not even telling my husband. It was...without trying to sound too much like Sally Field in Steel Magnolias...the most precious day of my life. I learned on that day that my maternal instinct kicked in the moment I saw the result of the test, and I already loved this child more than I could describe. He was, at the time, the size of a sesame seed, but I was already planning his future (within reason...or not).
On December 22, 2009, I walked into my husband's office at work with an envelope in my hand. In that envelope was a positive pregnancy test. I acted like I had received a horrible piece of mail that I couldn't even talk about. He wouldn't even open it at first...he later said he was so worried about what was in the envelope, that knowing about it would ruin Christmas. Ha ha...ACTING! He opened it...eyes welled up with tears, and he about squeezed the baby out giving me a hug. On that day, I felt true joy and indescribable elation. Neither of us could stop grinning.
We briefly spoke about when we were going to tell our families. We decided we would tell them on Christmas, but we wanted to hold off on telling the other children until we got the a-okay from the doctor at the end of my first trimester.
On December 25, 2009, we ventured up to Lead, South Dakota, to spend Christmas with my husband's parents, his siblings, and their significant others. Only problem...figuring out how to tell all the adults about our exciting news when we had THREE children in the house. So we not so slyly told the kids to go play downstairs. My husband's sister...immediately figuring out what was about to happen...grabbed her camera. My husband's mother was too distracted picking up wrapping paper to truly appreciate what we were about to announce. So with the children playing downstairs, we sat with family and my husband announced, "We're going to have a baby". My mother-in-law, so beside herself with excitement, almost inhaled the garbage bag she was holding as she brought her hands up to her mouth without letting go of the bag. I don't even remember what everybody was saying...just that there was SO MUCH happiness in the room. Moments later, one of the children downstairs announced "PREGNANT? MY MOM IS HAVING A BABY?" to which her mom quickly told my husband, "Go fix this...I am NOT pregnant". (Sidenote - she's now pregnant...lol).
My husband, decides to tell the children that our DOG was pregnant, and the only reason we asked them to go downstairs when we told everybody else was so the dog could tell them herself when we headed back to Rapid City. Oye...never send a man to do a woman's job. That's the best you could come up with? Several months later, when he would tell my two step-children that I was the pregnant one, my stepson would respond with, "So Bella isn't pregnant? We don't get puppies in the summer?" Classy, hubby...classy.
After spending the day with my husband's family and extended family (who we didn't tell), we ventured back down to Rapid City in a bad snowstorm and ventured over to my older brother's house to tell my parents. We once again made sure the children were occupied with toys and cousins, and it was my turn to announce, "We're pregnant!" My mother became so excited that she gave the world a fist pump better than any castmember of Jersey Shore. Her fist pump also went within INCHES of my father's face...which was equal parts scary and amusing to watch.
Looking back at the grandmothers' reactions, I'm surprised we didn't have to medicate either of them...I've never seen two women so unable to handle exciting news. One chokes on a garbage bag and the other almost commits an unintentional act of domestic violence.
The next few months were a whirlwind of wonderful overeating, shopping for giant shirts and quiet moments of reflection with my hands on my stomach.
Fast forward to March of 2009...the part I don't like remembering much. I woke up one morning just not feeling right. Actually, I felt panicky and knew something was wrong. I ended up at the doctor's office with skyrocketing blood pressure. Simply put - I have never been more terrified in my entire life. This child that I so desperately wanted was at risk. It was too soon for him (well at the time..."it") to be born. But from that fear was born several lessons: 1) My husband is stronger than I will ever know - He was a rock that kept me calm. He freaked out on his own time, but knew I needed somebody to tell me it would be okay, and that I needed to rest and be calm. 2) NEVER underestimate the power of prayer - And I don't mean this because my son ended up just fine. Rather, my faith in God was renewed, and I learned that daily prayer and conversation with God is good for your physical and mental health. I would have a sense of peace wash over me when I prayed, and that in turn, would help my blood pressure. 3) My son is strong - no matter what my blood pressure was at, there was NOTHING indicating it was affecting my son. What a trooper...
So I had to go on medication (no big deal in the long run), and limit what I did at work. It was all completely worth it.
A month later, my mother, mother-in-law, husband and I went to the doctor's office for our first 3D ultrasound which would also tell us if we were having a boy or a girl. Going into the appointment, I was convinced we were having a girl. It wasn't that I wanted a girl more than a boy...especially after what had happened earlier in the pregnancy...I had just sensed it was a girl.
Imagine my surprise when the technician said, "I don't usually say 100% one way or the other, but this is definitely a boy." What I remember the most about that appointment was my husband's face right after the announcement, and my mother-in-law crying as she kept hitting my husband in the shoulder. Later, she'd tell me she didn't remember hitting him, but I remember watching her whack his shoulder multiple times with excitement. My mother was so nervously excited the whole time, that she didn't stop talking. I remember her bouncing up and down. IT WAS A BOY!
And then he started to grow. Boy oh boy...did he start to grow. I could barely fit into most of my clothing when I still had 2 months to go. The summer was ridiculously hot. I couldn't walk well. I either had to eat 100 portions or 1/4 portion, depending on where my son was in comparison to my stomach. It hurt to sit down. It hurt to stand up. I had to get momentum to roll out of bed. I had to give myself a pep talk before attempting more than a few stairs. But it was all so so worth it...
In the beginning of August, 2010, my doctor told me my son was measuring at around 11 pounds, and that I had only a 5% chance of delivering naturally. Given my health risks from earlier in the pregnancy, the fact that my hips weren't as big as they wanted (Yes...finally tiny body parts), the location of my son, as well as the odds, I opted for a scheduled C-section. It was surprising how rude some people were about it. I learned an important lesson during that time - keeping my mouth shut, even when others can't. I had people tell me I had made the wrong choice, and that it was "ridiculous not to even try". I had others say, "So what? I know so and so who had a baby that big naturally". Well...good for your friend and her giant lady-parts. You are not better than me, giant va-jay-jay is not better than me. We are all mothers...let's be happy for one another. Women can be so catty and rude. That was a minor speedbump in an otherwise exciting last few weeks before delivery.
August 12, 2010 - THE DAY - My husband and I left the house early to drive to the hospital and check in. I was so excited, until I changed into the surgery gown. Then I was terrified. What if I'm not numb, and I feel everything? What if I can't walk for awhile? Wait...does this mean I'm going to have a kid in a few hours? HOLD ON! I CAN'T DO THIS! But I did do it. The operation itself was a blur to me...mostly because of the medication. I remember being thrown down onto the table when my body went entirely numb...I remember a lot of pressure and pulling. I remember a HOT resident coming into the room, a nurse asking if that was my husband, and me drowsily saying, "Oh...sure...he will do" to laughter. I remember comparing my position on the table to a lethal injection...more laughter. I even remember telling everybody that one of my friends said that to me...and I didn't want to take credit for the joke (One should never steal another's joke...Dane Cook - write that down). I remember my husband coming in and delicately touching my forehead. Then I remember the cry. My son was here. And the moment I found out I was pregnant was instantly replaced by this moment as the BEST moment of my life.
My son had problems breathing at first (he was a lazy breather), and he ended up in the NICU, which was stressful...but months later...I don't even remember the bad parts of that...all the bad is replaced by good when you have children...yet another lesson I've learned. When I was finally allowed to go see my son in the NICU, he was connected to a bunch of tubes and had an oxygen tent over his head. He looked like Buzz Lightyear. I could have freaked out about that...and maybe I did at the time...but what I remember now is him turning his head towards my voice, and grabbing onto my finger with his tiny hand.
I didn't get to hold him until the next day, and maybe I freaked out about that at the time...but what I remember now is rocking in the chair with him, and he nuzzled into my chest and fell asleep in my arms.
He didn't get to stay with us until the next night...and maybe I freaked out about it at the time...but what I remember now is getting to hold him without tubes and cords, my son going #1, #2 and #4.5 (Google It) all over my husband as he jumped up to change him in the middle of the night. Our first night spent together as a little family. That's what I remember the most...
And now I have this amazing son that is laughing, smiling, talking/yelling, trying to clap, and enriching my life more than I could imagine.
So yes...he wasn't born on Christmas...but my son is my Christmas Miracle. I've been thinking a lot about the last year as Saturday approaches...and I wanted to share a bit of my thoughts with you. Merry Christmas, All! Go have a baby.
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Eating: I had a delicious "fancy English Muffin" from a gift box sent by my aunt and uncle. So delicious. So fancy.
Listening to: The snoring of a tiny Maltese dog...who sounds like she's about 100 pounds when she's sleeping.
Annoyed At: The fact I missed one gift and I need to go out and grab it today...of all days.
Shopping For: Said gift.
Sidenote of the Day: I am so excited for Christmas this year. Even though my son is only 4 1/2 months old...it's his first Christmas. I feel like a kid again.
