Telling Rebecca

My kid is no dummy.  There have been a few times that she has looked at me sideways.  She has questioned why I haven’t had wine repeatedly.  She tried to catch us and ask if she would have a sibling by the time she is 13.  (Her bday is May, baby will be here April.)  We wanted to wait a bit longer to share the news with her because she is a kid, a girl, a young lady who can’t hold secrets is really what I’m saying.

I had ordered her a big sister shirt but it was slow to be shipped.  Instead, we sat her down one night and told her we needed to have a discussion.  You could tell she was trying to read our faces.  I handed her an envelope and told her to open it.  It had the ultrasound pictures in it.  The first thing she said was “I knew it! You weren’t drinking wine! I knew it!”  Then she stared at me like the baby might come crawling out any minute or perhaps I grew a third head suddenly.

It was slowly sinking in.

She did some bouncing around, she squealed and then we went to dinner.  That is where the questions started and have yet to stop.  At one point she simply stated, “I’m going to have a lot of questions about this.”  I understand kid.

Some of the best have been:

Will you have it Duggar style?  Like, in the bath tub, at home, with everyone? (Referring to the 19 Kids and Counting show on TLC.)

If I’m with you when you go into labor is there some sort of waiting room for kids or can Dad come get me?  I don’t want to see the “stuff.”  (Thank God her Dad lives literally 4 blocks from the hospital.)

How fat are you going to get?

Can you feel it moving yet?

Where does it pee at?

Can I go with when we find out what it is and if I go does it involve yucky stuff?

Are we still going on vacation next year?

Why do your boobs hurt?

Can you go swimming with me?

How much room is it going to take up in the backseat? (The girl travels heavy I tell ya.)

We aren’t going to turn weird and get a mini-van are we? (Hell, no.  No offense to you mini-van drivers.)

Are you sure I won’t have to share my birthday month?

Do I have to share any parts of my room with this baby?

How exactly did you know you were pregnant?

And it has gone on and on and on from there….

We will tell our parents (finally) this weekend.  She is ready to bust at the seams to share the news.

 

 

How Far Do You Support?

I went through my divorce.  I struggled through moments, I cried, I laughed, I changed, I learned and it happened.  I did not skip parts, ignore parts, pretend it didn’t happen or back pedal in that divorce.

I did it the best way I knew how.  I did what worked for me and I am ever so grateful that my divorce was amicable.  Amicable enough to even use the same lawyer and go out to lunch together after the judge announced us no longer husband and wife.

Not everyone gets that, I understand.  And let me say, everyone’s divorce is different.

Years later here I am with a friend in my house and her three children.  Her arms are covered in bruises from her husband.  We sat in a lawyer’s office this morning and she was all over the board.  I sat there getting frustrated.  Just what did she want exactly?  What are her goals?  Ten years I’ve listened to them two yell, fight and carry on.  I’ve supported her, given her places to stay and bit my tongue.  Now they are in my house, living on my bank account and she wants to find an easier route then actually going through it.

And she looks at me like I have no clue what I’m talking about.

I want to scream at her.  Shake her.  Tell her what reality is.  I could go on and on but here is where I am at.  I’m sitting in a chair next to her, pregnant.  I have a job I’m late getting to.  I have a beautiful, brand new house that I got up early to clean this morning because there are 4 extra people and a puppy staying there.  I have a Husband that will come home tonight that I will be happy to see.  You see, I worked hard for that.  Damn hard.  So while I will be supportive of friends when is enough, enough? When do your morals win out?  When do you tell your friend she is going to have to learn the hard way?  I’ve already done it.  I’ve been there.  I feel the stress today, stress that isn’t mine because I remember those days all to well but these aren’t my days.  No, they are hers.

It is a funny thing, being the already divorced person.  I completely understand the steps but no, I will not do it for another person.  The other thing I’m realizing, I can no longer be supportive of a toxic situation someone chooses to put them selves in daily.  It is exhausting.

Moving In.

We had only been in bed and asleep for  little over an hour.  We sat outside our house till late by the fire pit with some friends and Rebecca fell asleep on the couch.  I had left her there and quickly fell asleep myself, smelling of fire.  Somehow I heard my phone vibrate.  I never leave the ringer on at night.  I ignored it but it was persistent and kept up.  I got up to pee and was no annoyed this unknown number was not only calling again and again but was leaving a voicemail.  I checked it.  It held a sobbing and hysterical friend.  I dialed back the unknown number, the only phone she could get her hands on.  Within five minutes we were up, dressed, tossing Rebecca in the back seat and driving 30 minutes North.

It was 1 am.

My friend had been tossed around by her husband, again.  He took her keys, her phone, her purse and the three kids.  He locked the door and she ran for help.  We arrived and called the cops.  By then her husband was passed out on the couch and we banged on the windows till the oldest child answered the door.  Long story short, 3 little boys were carried to the waiting car, one 3 month old puppy was wrestled in with the kids, statements were taken and my daughter stood outside watching the chaos while making small talk with the neighbors.  An hour after arriving I was driving the friend and three boys, while my husband and daughter followed behind, as we headed back to my place.  Adrenaline was keeping me awake and I rolled down the windows to calm my queasy stomach.  Baby wasn’t thrilled about a middle of the night adventure.

4 am was when we got all dogs and children settled into bed.

4:30 am was when my husbands alarm went off.

4:35 am I finally fell back asleep.

7 am was when the house started to wake up.  A dog had to pee.  A brother rolled on another brother.  Someone was hungry. (Okay, that was me again.)

Breakfast started.  Dogs chased each other.  Kids let the doors slam as they ran in and out.  I sat and watched my friend in my kitchen, looking exhausted, as she retold last nights events.  I had that look once.  The one that says your entire life is about to change.  The one that says this journey is going to suck but man, if you knew how great the ending could be.  After years of hell she is done with this marriage and filing for divorce.  While there have been many nights of escape to my place with the boys, this one is final.  They are moving in until they find a place and can get on their feet.

She was there through my divorce.  She picked me up off the floor.  She watched me cry, scream, stare at the wall and everything in between.  This only seems fair.  I remember that pain all to well.

The oldest looked at me that night as we drove to my place.  I glanced up in the rearview mirror at him when he called my name.  “Thanks for coming and saving us again Aunt Sanibel.  I love you.”  Anytime, kid.  Anytime.

 

First Look

The past few weeks I have been holding my breath.  Years of trying and you just assume something should go wrong.  They did loads of blood work and gave me a thumbs up.  The tests say positive and then you wait until that first ultrasound.  It doesn’t help we knew earlier than most people do.  When you watch every day and track everything, you tend to know early.

We were waiting for today’s ultrasound.  Six weeks, five days.  I was sitting in the waiting room with my Husband who was talking about work, trying to distract me.  I was trying not to puke my nerves all over the room.

Just call my damn name lady.

We kept telling ourselves to hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

She called my name.  We were taken to the room.  I settled into my spot.  A few minutes later there it was…a little nugget on the screen that looked like a million other dots I’ve seen on other friends’ ultrasound pictures.  But this one was really ours and then…heartbeat.  130.  I think you could hear us both exhale which was followed by a fist bump in the silence.  (Aside from saying my wedding vows, we don’t get overly emotional so there were no tears.)  The tech laughed and asked if we had been trying for a long time.  We must have been obvious.

There it was.  Healthy.  Everything looked okay.  She printed up a stream of pictures, gave her congratulations and sent us on our way. Just like that.  Sure, a million things can go wrong but for right now we are going to relax a bit and enjoy the news…..still not telling anyone else though.

 

Pregnant Vs. Drunk

I’m at week six and I have to say, I’m not feeling too bad.  I’ve heard horror stories so I’m not going to complain when it could be much worse.  Although I’m realizing that being pregnant is quite like having a strong rum or wine drinking night.  Let me explain.

I feel dizzy 90% of the time.  Basically it is the equivalent of having a few glasses of wine and feeling buzzed.

I pee all the time.  It is the same as breaking the seal to early in the night of partying and constantly running to the bathroom.  Just replace the alcohol with water.

Some people feel a large range of emotions when they drink too much or just drink anything at all.  You have your happy drunks, emotional drunks, sloppy drunks, flirty drunks and mean drunks.  You can have the full range of emotions pregnant as well.  The main one for me is anger.  I suddenly have zero patience or ability to calm my irish temper these days.  My filter is gone and stuff flies out of my mouth.

When I have more than enough to drink I am the kind of drunk that eventually gets sleepy and is happy to find my bed to pass out into a blissful slumber.  As a sober, pregnant woman, this growing a baby thing makes me do the same.  I feel the need to leave the party early, crawl in bed, and pass the hell out into the hardest sleep of my life.  Every night.

I’ve had my fair share of drinking nights when I come out of that blissful slumber, roll over in bed, and feel my stomach lurch.  I usually run back through my head to see if I had enough food to match my alcohol intake.  Now I roll over and feel my stomach lurch for who knows what reason.  Hormones, lack of food, or too much food.  Either way I try to take a deep breath and get back to sleep as soon as possible.

Then there is the morning of hangovers.  You know what I mean.  You sit up in bed the next day and feel every inch of that drinking.  The symptom that you must have had way too much to drink, not enough water/food and a damn good time.  There is nothing of the sort attached to my pregnancy hangover.  In fact, this is the hangover that doesn’t go away as the day goes on.  This hangover comes and goes daily.  The food that sounds great to fix the hangover can immediately make you want to barf the second you put it in your mouth.  There is no popping pills to help the headache associated with this hangover.  There is the same dry heaving, queasy stomach and I wake up feeling like I’m coming out of a dark fog, trying to figure out how I got in this situation.

So if you are wondering what being pregnant feels like, just drink a shit load tonight and call me in the morning.  We can compare notes.

Who to Share Our Secret With

The last week has been a roller coaster of emotions and discussions.  We are living in a cautious world with this new pregnancy information.  I have been in for blood work a couple of times to make sure that my hormone levels are continually going up.  So far, so good.  They are right on track to show me at five weeks, two days. (As of today)  It doesn’t look like multiples or an ectopic pregnancy but the reality is, anything can happen.  The next appointment for me is in a week and a half for an ultrasound.  Thus far I have felt fine aside from mild cramps last week and a few moments of feeling gaggy.

We are trying to remain positive and not get too excited which has proven to be much more difficult than what I thought.  I have heard way too many stories of someone finally getting pregnant only to have a miscarriage and quite frankly that scares the shit out of me.

It is easy to want to scream the news from the roof tops but we are realistic.  The Hubs and I made the decision to each pick one person to tell.  I chose a friend of mine who went through infertility as well and is now due in November.  She has been the closest sounding board for me through all of this.  Plus, she knew my schedule for everything so she was going to find out either way.  My Husband chose a friend of his who has been a big supporter as well.  Then there was the one random friend in the state of Wyoming who noticed me on Facebook, in a picture, on a boat with no rum in my hand.  Yep, that screams pregnant to this dear friend, who has also been a supporter on our journey.  Then after a rough yoga class and some tears I informed my yoga instructor.

As far as everyone else goes, they can wait a few weeks.  We are actually aiming for Labor Day weekend.  We like having our own little secret.  We are enjoying this moment on our own before the whole Calvary of Mom’s, Aunts, and so forth catch on to make us crazy.  Some people say to tell your family so they will be there to support you if something does go wrong but not all of them have been real supportive of our infertility in the first place.  It is in fact fairly easy since no one lives close to us.  Unless they notice no rum or wine in my pictures.  Clearly I like liked my rum and wine.

We are also waiting two more weeks to tell Rebecca, which has been pretty tough.  She was getting close to figuring it out over the weekend when she was with us.  Again, noticing my lack of wine.

Otherwise we are living our lives as normal as possible.  We go to work.  I go to yoga.  We boat.  I walk the dog.  We go to the lake.  We sit outside in the evenings grilling and discussing our days.  We just have a secret that we are hiding but as all secrets go, it will eventually come out.

 

 

July 23, 2014 – The second half of my day.

If you haven’t read the first half, you should.

 

I went home from work that day at warp speed.  The dog and I retreated to the bathroom with more tests and I started peeing while she started attacking flying wrappers.  We lined those positive tests up and I was more convinced this was true.  I had math to do.  How the hell did this happen?!  I was clearly in shock.  I pulled out my app, crossed out some nights, figured in when doctor appointments were, what happened when, carried the one, decided that night was laughable sex and that night rocked, so that night was obviously it.  We managed to get pregnant that night.  I did more math, okay I googled, and came up with an approximate due date.  Just like that we have a plan from A to B.  Or more like from today till April 3rd.

I stared at the calendar.  We can manage a third anniversary trip that involves adult drinks and a beach, with friends after this kid comes around.  I made a mental note.  Timing looked good.

The dog stared at me and was clearly feeding off my anxiety so I figured we should remain calm until the Husband came home.  Mostly, remain normal.  I called him with my best “everything is normal” tone.  He said he would be extra late getting home from work.  I burst into tears.  It wasn’t anything near the “normal” I was going for.  He called back five minutes later to make sure I was okay, apparently I was acting irrational.

I took the dog for a long walk, we came home and did yoga, we sat outside and read a book.  I paced.  I watched my DVR.  I paced.  I did more yoga.  I needed a glass of wine.  Oh, wait! Last night was the last time I would drink for 9 months. I hit the panic button.  I watched the clock.  The dog stared at me.

The Husband finally walked in the door a little after 10:30 pm.  Normally my ass would have happily been in bed but I was perched on the couch.  The dog jumped for him and he asked how my day was.  I didn’t give this moment a ton of thought to be honest.  Some do this big, grand, tell their Husband they are going to be a Daddy from Pinterest thing but I hadn’t thought that far ahead.  I had done too much math and peeing for the day.  My brain was full.

I went with the first thing that came out of my mouth “I didn’t know last night was going to be my last glass of wine for nine months!” Apparently I went with my first concern and started tearing up.

He stood there and started smiling.  “Does this mean you are pregnant?”

I pulled out the millions of pee sticks and the dog stood proudly next to them.  Yep, this meant I was pregnant.  We sat on the couch in a bit of shock and talked.  There were tears.  (from me)  There was laughing.  (from him)  We then went to bed and before we went to sleep the last thing we discussed was how nothing would be as we have known it again.

The following night we ceremoniously sat outside on the back deck and I had my official last glass of wine until next April.