At our last appointment, our doctor asked if we wanted to hear the heartbeat again. She immediately found it. It was strong and loud. All of a sudden, we could hear static. "The baby just turned it's back to us. It doesn't seem to like doctors," she stated. She tried again. The baby had flipped back over and was facing us. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! "Ok! That's enough of that!" The doctor said, and she put away the instrument. "What was that sound?" I asked. "Your baby started kicking at the machine. It is very stubborn. I wonder where the baby gets it from?" She looked at me and then at Joe. We all started laughing. That was definitely a toss up. Today was a good day, but not every day was like this. I guess to fully appreciate the light, we must first understand the darkness that it emerged from...
First Things First
[Begin Rant] You don't have to have a biological child to be a parent. Those blogs that state (and I read one yesterday) that it is a woman's duty to have her own children...give me a break. I feel that I am a parent (or a fun, young aunt) to my students and will continue to be. Aren't adoptive parents, step-parents, and foster parents still parents? Of course! I just had to get that off my chest because I feel that their struggles are so real and so selfless, and their journeys are so emotionally taxing, that we can learn a lot from them. [End Rant]
"Are you expecting some new life?"
Starting the beginning of August, I was sick. I chalked it up to a new school year and my nerves in anticipation of the start of school. I was really tired, hot, queasy, didn't feel 100%, and couldn't recall the last time I did. On the first day of school, when I gave the assembly in front of 800-900 incoming students and student leaders, something didn't feel right. I told my fellow advisors, and we all agreed it was probably nerves. I gave the assembly. I felt it was one of my best. Still though, something was off.
Fast forward a week later to Labor Day. I had the grand idea to go to Hobby Lobby and redecorate our living room. Joe came with me. I was feeling terrible, so we made our stop short. On the way home, I told Joe that I can't go on being sick, and that I should probably go to the doctor. We came up with plan that I would go in a day or two if things didn't get back to normal. "If nothing else, I think we should stop and get a pregnancy test," I finally said. "Something doesn't feel right." "I think we can wait," Joe said. "Nope. Not happening. There's something wrong. I need you to take me to get one." And so he did.
We went to an undisclosed location because I get so embarrassed with things of this nature. At the check-out, the man yelled, "ARE YOU EXPECTING SOME NEW LIFE?" What the heck does that mean? I naturally bolted for the door and sat in the car. On the way home, I told Joe, "Won't it be so typical if I'm pregnant and that cracked-out cashier is the first person I remember from this whole experience? That's just my life." We laughed.
I took the test as soon as I got home, and per Joe's request, I left it on the counter for him to check. After all, I had a living room to redecorate. A few minutes later, I heard Joe say, "Oh my God," so I went to see what the fuss was. "I've been reading it wrong...I thought you weren't, but you are...this is the dominant line. Look! See the lines?" Now it was time for me to say, "Oh my God." Then I said, "I better take another test." And then, "What do I tell my CE students?" We both started pacing throughout the house. On one of my laps, I asked, "What do I do now? I know nothing! I don't even have a doctor! I eat too much crap! I don't exercise! What do we do? WHAT DO WE DO?" Joe said, "Well, I'm going to the grocery store, you should continue redecorating the living room." So that was that. This certainly brings a whole new meaning to Labor Day.
I can't do this
Like clockwork, the next morning I was sick. And by sick, I mean siiick. I was sick all day at school, making random runs to the bathroom, hoping no one would see me. As soon as school was over, I made a beeline for home and went straight to bed. Joe got home around 5:30 that night and came in to see pathetic me with a blanket covering my head, sobbing uncontrollably. "What's wrong?" Joe asked. Between sobs, I replied, "I just wanted to inform you that I can't do this. I'm not strong enough. It wasn't supposed to be this way. I'm not leaving this bed for nine months. And I'm serious...there is nothing you can say to talk me out of it." That night began the next two weeks of my life. I did get out of bed (reluctantly), went to school, made a beeline home, and Joe would make food deliveries to my bed every night. During my protest, I began researching doctors. There were 368 doctors in my area to consider. And yes, Joe and I researched all 368 of them. We narrowed it down to a top ten list and Joe started calling. Several were now retired (geez Altius, update your list), and some just weren't nice on the phone. I told Joe that we were missing something, so I began my search again. I literally googled "First-Time Mom needs a doctor in Salt Lake City" and this amazing clinic came up with funny pictures of the staff on the homepage. The doctor won "Best Bedside Manner" award for 2014 and "Patients' Preferred Doctor," just to name a few. Joe made the call. We got in for the following week.
Get her juice! But keep going!
I was nervous beyond repair for our first doctor's appointment. I had to make a good first impression, and I would withhold telling her that I'm afraid of doctors, needles, blood, heck, any type of bodily functions, and that I certainly wasn't wanting her to look you-know-where upon first visit. The clinic was nice, with no frills. I didn't need a water feature on the wall anyway. They took us into the back room and told me to change. "You're going to need a full exam," the nurse stated. "Um," I replied. "Please just tell me everything you are going to do today, so I can plan ahead." She gave me a list! NOTHING on the list I would ever make my worst enemy endure. I looked at Joe. He told me I was brave, and I headed in for battle. First stop, full exam. The doctor came in, examined me immediately, and I grabbed Joe's hand. Finally, she stood up. "I probably should have introduced myself before you showed me your privates," she stated. "I'm Dr. _______ and I'm very pleased to meet you." I knew at that moment that we would get along just fine. She then asked how I was doing and my reply was simple. "I just wanted to come in to see if I was pregnant." She laughed, so I laughed nervously. "Oh, you're pregnant alright. Congratulations! Take a look!." We saw a tiny heartbeat on the computer screen. "Heartbeats are hard to see at seven weeks. Your baby's heart is very strong." "HOLY SHIT, THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING." I screamed to the doctor and to Joe. Joe was beaming from ear to ear.
The next stop for this fabulous appointment was a blood draw. The nurse wheeled in a cart and started talking to me about being a first-time mom, and what I think about all of this (she is pregnant with her third). I knew what she was doing...it wasn't working. I was very much aware that there were SIX tubes, THREE LARGE and THREE SMALL that she was going to fill with my blood. And so it began. We started chatting, but I was only half listening. When will this appointment ever end? Another nurse came in to ask me about her son in high school and if I had any suggestions. Words were coming out of my mouth, but I'm not sure what they were. I heard Joe say, "She's not looking too great. Should we do something?" I'm not sure what their reply was. I looked at Joe and said, "I think I'm going to be si---." The next thing I remember, Joe was screaming, "Get her juice! She needs juice!" Three people were over me at this point. The nurse said that she had a few vials left to fill. "Get them all today!" Joe screamed. "She can't go through this again! She's too little!" I started being fed cookies and juice. "I don't feel well. Can I lay down?" I asked. "Please, eat what we are giving you. You will be ok," the nurse replied. I'm not sure how long I was in there, but everyone was very nice and very concerned. "I'm so sorry," I whispered to a now, crowded room of people. "I wanted to make a good first impression. I promise I will be better next time." So much for being brave.
The Darkest Hours
Weeks 8, 9, and 10, were still difficult, but not nearly as bad as the first three. I told my mom at the end of Week 7 because she is my best friend and my best mom. I cried through most of it just because when I look at her I see the perfect mom, and when I look at me, I see a mess of a person who still hasn't quite wrapped my head around any of this.
My Week 11 appointment was going to be blood-draw free, so I felt good about it. The first thing they did at this appointment was take my blood pressure. When it was over, the nurse looked very concerned. "We have a problem," she stated. She left the room and got another nurse. The other nurse came in and retested me. Same result. It was too high. A multitude of things ran through my head. Am I hurting the baby? Will the doctor tell me I can't be her patient anymore? The doctor came in shortly and said we were going to do another ultrasound. It had a completely different vibe from the previous appointment. They wanted to see if my blood pressure was hurting the baby. This can't be happening. It just can't be happening.
The baby was fine. It had a strong heartbeat and we even saw it kick! "Your baby is so active and strong," the doctor said. Now we needed to talk about my blood pressure. In short, my mother had issues with her blood pressure during her pregnancy and it looked like the same thing was happening with mine. It is called chronic hypertension and must get under control before the third trimester when a woman's blood pressure naturally increases. Right now, my pregnancy was officially considered high risk. The baby was not being impacted at this point, which I was grateful for beyond measure. Although some of it was hereditary, I could still cut down on certain foods and replace them with healthier alternatives, but more importantly, I needed to rest more throughout the day both physically and mentally. The worst case scenario is preeclampsia and hurting both the baby and myself. I was asked to get a blood pressure monitor asap and monitor myself three times a day and take a nap every day when I got done with school. But that's not all...
We also learned that my blood type (- -) requires shots starting at 28 weeks because my immune system will start fighting off the foreign body (baby) without. But that's not all...
The doctor also told us that I will need to deliver a baby within 6 lbs. or there may be other complications like a crushed pelvis. So pretty much, my due date is May 5, but if this baby gets to be 6 lbs. and fully developed a few weeks prior, that's when we will deliver.
Needless to say, I was devastated at the end of the appointment. I don't recall a moment in my life where I was this upset. I bawled the entire time to Joe's parents (we were telling them tonight). It was one thing if I was sick, but to be hurting the baby was just too much. Joe was beyond excited to tell his parents. I tried to be happy but I kept thinking of all of the issues. I knew I had to fix it. I just had to make it better.
The next day, I replaced much of the current food I was eating with lower sodium options. While this was just a small percentage of chronic hypertension, it was a percentage nonetheless. I also bought a monitor and began taking my blood pressure and recording it three times a day and taking a minimum of an hour nap to get us both on track again.
I followed the same plan for the next two weeks. It's hard to say what I was feeling other than I couldn't see the light. One in ten women suffer from depression during pregnancy, and I think I would fall under that category. I became like a machine. I just went through the motions, day in and day out. I would rest, eat dinner, and then go to bed. I cancelled several plans we had made. I didn't return phone calls. I just couldn't see the light.
"I'm sorry you feel that way."
Two weeks later, I produced the results to my doctor. She was beyond impressed. My blood pressure had lowered twenty points, and although it was still high enough to be considered hypertensive, at this point I celebrated the small successes. The doctor saw that all of my readings were regular at home, so she thinks that a lot of it has to do with the nervousness I feel at the doctors. Needless to say, I was to continue with my testing, diet, and resting at home, but my pregnancy was now considered normal and I wouldn't have to go on medication. The doctor then began asking a little more about my stress level and anxiety. "It just really upsets me when people tell me not to worry, as if I can just shut it off like a light switch." The doctors solution, which I think is pure genius, is when someone wants to tell me not to worry or not to get stressed out, as a replacement they should say, "I'm sorry you feel that way." This then validates my feelings without putting a band aid on a problem that can't be fixed immediately. Joe is becoming the master at this. He will start with, "You need to stop..." and I will immediately correct him and say, "I'm sorry?" and he will (sometimes reluctantly) respond, "...you feel this way." Therapy and pregnancy all in one.
Let there be light
So that pretty much sums all nineteen weeks up. Pregnancy is officially the hardest thing I've ever had to do because of one thing: Control. I can't control when and where I'll be sick (slight incident in the car last week) or if today is going to be a good or a bad day physically and/or emotionally. But by God, I'm trying, and I will do everything in my power to make sure this baby is as healthy as can be. Today, I believe in light.
FAQ's
Why did you wait until you were eighteen weeks to tell people you were pregnant? Joe and I chose to wait for several reasons. First, we have so many cool baby girls in our life right now: Sadie, Abigail, Cambria, Carlie, and two of my best friends are pregnant as well. Everyone deserves their time. Second, due to first-time jitters and health risks, we thought it would be better to focus on our health instead of planning the outfits. Third, we love Christmas cards and thought that a Christmas/Baby announcement would be a cool way to tell people.
Why aren't you finding out if it's a girl or a boy? Life seems to have few too surprises left. We love surprises and feel that this would be the ultimate surprise.
Are you still going to work? What's funny about this question is only people who I don't work with ask it. Those that I work with know that I will still be teaching full-time because they did it. I can't think of better role models to prove you can be a wonderful mother while working full-time than I have at school.
How many children do you plan on having? Are you kidding me? This has been the longest four months of my life. I am taking one day at a time.
How long are you taking off of work? I'm taking off officially starting April 4 (Spring Break is the week prior). It is a month before my due date, but Joe and I want me to be at home resting to ensure that my blood pressure is where it needs to be. I will return for graduation day and then be off for the summer.
What's the best piece of advice you've been given? I love my doctor. I appreciate her realness and sarcasm. She said at our first doctors appointment that since we are older and educated that pregnancy will be harder for us mentally. "Really?" I asked. "Why?" She said, "You are well-read. You have seen people around you raise children. You know their story, the good and the bad. You naturally compare yourselves. When you are younger, you don't know any better, so you just deal with it. Ignorance really is bliss in this case." Preach sister, preach!
What's the worst piece of advice you've been given? Since people haven't known for that long, I'm taking one that I heard from one of my friends. "When people tell you, 'You think it's hard now? Just wait until _______,' that's the worst."
What has been the best part? Keeping the secret has been pretty sweet. So was making the Christmas cards. I really enjoy getting to share this time with two of my best friends at school. That is something I will always cherish and remember...even if I've been the grumpiest out of the three. But the ultimate best part was seeing both ultra-sounds and hearing the heartbeat. It gives me great piece of mind knowing that everything is ok.
What has been the worst part? Aside from the terrible appointment and blacking out for a month, the worst part was telling my Seniors that I won't be there to teach them their last term of high school. I couldn't even look at them. I am devastated. I am looking forward to returning on their graduation day, and I hope they understand that I am their teacher today, tomorrow, five years from now, and always.
What are you most excited for? Aside from a healthy baby, three words: Themed Birthday Parties.
What are you most nervous about? I'm terrified about everything...especially getting the baby from Point A to Point B if you catch my drift. I'm also nervous about putting groceries in my car and then forgetting the baby is in the shopping cart and driving away.
Do you have any advice or suggestions for someone who is pregnant? Everyone has different experiences, just worry about you and the baby. And when all else fails, watch What to Expect When You're Expecting. It made me feel normal. I was screaming at the television, "I want to be Cameron Diaz!" but unfortunately, I am Elizabeth Banks.
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