The Voyage

Hello friends,
As I sit here typing this blog, when I really should be doing homework, folding laundry, or a myriad other responsilble-type things, I am suddenly feeling the excited optimism of starting this blog turning into slight writer's block. Maybe it's because I feel that I'm not such a great writer, not all that flourish-y and such. But I will do my best for you.
Let me start with this. The main reason I decided to start sharing my life with the world wide web is that I found out that I am pregnant about a month ago. Some may state "so...?"This is not so unusual, I know. But my particular journey as it turns out is not so usual after all. Since deciding to write about this experience, I have decided to go forward with it after I give birth, just to see what happens, to see if there is actually anything of interest to say about my life, my family, and what the future will bring. Sometimes the most ordinary lives can bring about extraordinary things (well, they gotta be interesting to somebody), so we will just see, shall we?
But first, the beginning. My pregnancy did not start with the realization and excitement (or anxiety) a woman feels when she first notices that her period time has come and gone....and no period. It did not start with nausea, bloat, fatigue, or near migrane headaches. In fact, the beginning of my journey, as far as I was concerned, started with a phone call from my GYN doctor's office while sitting in the parking lot of Fred Meyer with my husband beside me, chowing down on a pretty tasty cheeseburger. I picked up the call, recognizing the number, but not knowing exactly what to expect to hear. I was scared, mostly.
That was a Sunday afternoon. A few days earlier, on Thursday, I went to my appointment. I had not had a period in quite sometime, and was both looking forward to this hard-earned appointment (it took a while to get to the point where I would go, and longer to get the appointment in the first place) and dreading it at the same time. I just knew something was terribly "wrong" with me. I knew in my heart that somehow, I had hit the infertility lottery and this is what my doctor was going to tell me. I just KNEW it was PCOS, a tumor, early menopause, endometriosis, etc. She gave me an exam, took my blood and urine, and told me to wait a few days for test results to come back. She also gave me a prescription for a drug to encourage my uterus to shed any old lining still hanging around (apparently that can cause problems if it stays too long) and to "kick start" my cycle again. She need not have bothered to do that.
I never thought that the diagnosis could be PREGNANT. (as it turns out, 23 weeks, but even she didn't know that at that time).
Now, before you all get your knickers in a twist over "how could she NOT KNOW she was preggers," and "Is she just completely oblivious and/or not in tune with her body?" (etc., yes, Iv'e had to endure it all at this point) I would like to tell all of you jaw-droppers out there that it is a possible situation. If you have ever heard of or seen "I didn't know I was pregnant" on TLC, then you would know it does happen. Although I do not believe I could have been someone who would be unaware to the very last minute, and find it hard to believe that someone would be, I will not even venture into judgemental waters here. It could plausibly happen to any woman, no matter how "body savvy" she thinks she is, and I will leave it at that. I didnt have any of the classic symptoms with the exception of a few minor headaches and lower back pain (which I have had since I can remember off and on) I felt normal. Just no period. This didn't phase me much for a couple of reasons. 1. I had come off the patch roughly around the end of March, beginning of April. It takes a few months normally to readjust and get your cycle back from that. 2.For me personnally, knowing from experience, it takes longer for my cycle to come back when I stop any type of hormonal birth control. In the past, it made me a nervous wreck, but now I came to expect it. Well, combine that with no symptoms, no weight gain, and my already low expectations of getting ANYTHING easy in my life after all of the struggles and dissapointment I had experienced, and you have a recipie for what they call "pervasive denial." The only thing that I felt blessed and charmed about for a loooong time is that I managed to meet my husband, Dan, out of the blue, no E-Harmony or bar crawling involved and fell madly in love with him within a matter of a few months. We married last October, just celebrated our first year anniversary on the 11th. Anyhoo, any symptom I may have had, but don't remember, was pushed aside and discounted. I even took a pregnancy test around 3 1/2 - 4 months and it came out negative. Or so I thought.
I was in shock. I hung up the phone and looked at Dan. He had a little impish grin on his face. He had heard the whole phone conversation, there was nothing for me to really declare, so I simply said, "so I guess your'e going to be a daddy!" He smiled at me, hugged and kissed and congratulated me, and immediately started fooling around with his phone, playing around with some function or something. I thought, how oddly casual his reaction is. I asked him if he actually understood what I had just said, and he replied "yes, can't you see my hands shaking?" I did. However, it seemed like my hubby had doubts of his own. "We will see,"he said. Damn right, I thought.
Off we took for home. I immediately went to the bathroom and whipped out an extra PG test stick. This time there was no mistaking it. As soon as I dipped the thing into my "sample" cup, up it flashed bright blue before the little plus sign could even get ready for the curtain call. Through the roof. Couldn't breathe. Now what?! Who do I tell? Do I tell anyone yet? What about my parents, surely they could know, even though it was early yet (ha, wrong again). I took the stick downstairs and placed it on the desk. So there, Mr. Denial.
Well, Mr. Denial is married to Mrs. Denial (apparently the Queen of Denial), because the week after, we had our first ultrasound. Dan, of course, not timing things well, arrived late. Sorry, honey, but sometimes you don't. We saw our baby for the first time. So far so good, everything looked fine. The technician asked if we were ready for a shock. I looked at Dan, and squeaked out "uh huh..."
"Your'e at 24 weeks, 4 days."
Dan let out a "WHOA" and grinned ear to ear. He knew he was right to urge me to my initial appointment. I just stayed still and processed this for a few seconds. Then I asked out loud, to nobody in particular, "how does THIS happen?!?" The smart-assed technician had the nerve to say "Do you mean getting pregnant?"
So, here we are, about a month later. Still amazed at the fact that I concieved literally the very next month after I ditched the patch, seemingly without much effort at all. Still trying to process that I have missed almost 2/3rds of my pregnancy, trying not to kick myself over it, obsess over every little thing I should/should not have done for the last 6 months, and to hold on tighter to the ever speeding out of control train ride I'm on for lets face it, not just 3 more months, but for the rest of my existence as a mom. I love our baby already, but I'm scared as hell. Can I do this? Can I give my best? Will we be OK financially/emotionally/spiritually after this baby comes? Will I lose myself? Will my marriage suffer, or grow better? Is my baby OK physically and mentally? This one scares me the most. I don't smoke/drink heavily/or do drugs, but I know I could have eaten better and just been kinder to myself overall.
At least I'm finally obvious now, with a cute little bump that is growing everyday. I seemed to hide it well for a long time and then I suddenly "blossomed." I'm kinda glad I have now, maternity clothes are really comfy. I have a doctor's appointment next week, with so many questions racing around in my head that I can't sleep. Well, strange dreams and a body that makes it almost impossible to get a comfortable, interruption-less sleep (thanks, bladder) are not helping, either.
There's much to rejoice about, too. My husband couldn't be more pleased and excited, my parents love that they will be grandparents now, and everyone I know has been nothing but supportive and happy for us. Dan likes his "baby report" when he comes home, to rub the Budda belly and feel for kicks that are getting stronger everyday. It's kinda nice to be preggers through the holidays, too. Makes them more special and memorable, I guess. We are looking forward to childbirth classes, and all of the planning and decision making in the months ahead, even if we have to step up things into turbo drive to make up for lost time. I pray every day that things go well and we have a happy healthy baby. Won't even matter what the gender is (although we have both confided in each other that we are hoping secretly for a girl). I swear, though, you can't imagine how many people are quick to offer advice (even stupid advice), guess the "real" due date (ours is so far February 16th), and proundly declare that since they had all of their kids' genders pegged in utero, that they are convinced that it is a boy/girl. Whatever. All I know is when I feel my little one move around inside my middle, I remember that little miracles have the potential to just sneak up on you when you least expect them to. And we should cherish each and every one of them.