The Truth About Having A Baby

I read so many of blogs and Facebook posts about pregnancies, birth stories, and the early days with babies. Everyone seems to have had such lovely experiences. I think that's why I never wrote anything of substance about mine: other than the outcome -- my delightful daughter -- my experiences were not pleasant (understatement of the century). I had a challenging pregnancy; I had a long, painful, and traumatic childbirth experience, the high point of which was the surgical intervention; my first few weeks with my daughter were painful because of complications from surgery and panicked because of breastfeeding difficulties. None of it was pretty, and almost a year after the baby's birth, I am still traumatized.

Don't read any further if you're squeamish.

Heartburn and Muumuus

Last night, L had a cold, and I had horrible heartburn.  I've read the books (and the internet), and I know that heartburn is a very common pregnancy symptom.  And, to be honest, I've had heartburn in varying degrees pretty much since we found out about Cletus.  (I think it kind of makes up for the fact that I haven't been very pukey, but my sister would probably disagree and then threaten to punch me again.) 

But last night was the kind of heartburn that made me realize that my kishkas are all moved around where they're not supposed to be, and OMG it's only the end of week 14 and I have 26 weeks of this shit to go, and I'm just going to get more gigantic, and the heartburn is only going to get worse . . .

So yeah.  I'm a big fat baby, both figuratively and literally.

Anyway, this brings me to my real topic:  weight gain and maternity clothing.  As in, I am getting really fat really fast, and I'm going to have to get maternity clothing soon, and I am scared to death of the idea of it.  And to think that about 3 years ago, I was the same size that I was at 22, and I will probably never see that size again.  So I'm probably going to have to clean out my closets and drawers and get rid of all sorts of things that I've been holding on to, beautiful things that I am fairly certain will never fit me again.  Sob.

I'm going to have to replace all of my cute stuff with baggy shapeless muumuus.  SOB!

L, because he is wonderful and positive and optimistic, is, naturally, excited about the whole process.  He looks forward to my "bump" (oh, how I hate that word!) looking more bump-like and less like I've spent the last three months eating nothing but pie -- WHICH I HAVEN'T, but that's what it currently looks like.  (Note:  I have gained less than 5 pounds.  It's just all in my midsection.)

So, anyway, I feel like a giant, round, blimp already, and I have six months to go.

It's official! We're having a baby!

Today officially marks 14 weeks -- the start of the second trimester.  And so, we started to share the news over the past few weeks -- and, after telling my boss, I posted it on Facebook on Tuesday.

Now that everyone knows, there are a few things we can share.

1.  How we found out.  We really didn't think it would happen so fast.  L and I had pretty much decided that we were going to get married and have kids, but were in no real rush to do the former.  But, because we're over 35, we knew that we probably had a limited window for babies, at least the old-fashioned way.

For some strange reason, we were convinced that it was going to take us a while to actually get pregnant, and so we came up with the clever idea to stop trying to not get pregnant.  And then, a few weeks later, early one Saturday morning, there it was, on the pregnancy test, clear as day.

So I did what any normal girl would do:  I went out to the sunroom to check my email and process the information while L made breakfast.  (We were doing a low-carb diet at the time, so it was eggs and bacon or something of the sort.)  When I came back into the living room, he hugged me, and I said something to the effect of "Oh, by the way, we're having a baby."

Nice, huh.

2.  How pregnancy has been so far.  In a word, crazy.  I mean, since we've found out, it's been nonstop doctors, discussion of risks, weird test results, food (and smell) aversions, sheer exhaustion, and a non-functioning immune system -- combined with work stress, holiday stress, family stress. . . .  Oh, and we managed to elope in the middle of it -- wedding stress.  (Well, sort of.  We do realize that by eloping, we saved ourselves about 99% of the stress of a "real wedding."  But we probably would have eloped anyway.)

Still, it's been worth it:  according to all the tests, we have a healthy fetus.  So there's that.

3.  The worst part.  Not telling anyone was pretty challenging for me.  I mean, I wanted to call my Nana the second I saw the positive test, but I didn't want to get her hopes up.  Every day, I would vacillate as to whether I should just call her and tell her.  I needed to tell SOMEONE.  And lucky for me, one of my friends was getting coffee with me when I got a call from the doctor's office with some of the weird test results.  So I had someone to tell.

But really, that wasn't the worst part.  The worst part has been not having my mom here.  She would have been ecstatic.  And then, one day, when I was really really sick -- with the cold that still won't go away! -- I said to L, with tears in my eyes, "I love you, and don't take this the wrong way, but I really want my mommy." 

4.  Why I love my husband.  Well, there are so many reasons.  But a really good one is that he talks to the fetus.  It melts my heart -- and I'm not the sappy one.

Oh, and you should have seen his face the first time we heard the heartbeat, and then, when we saw the baby on the ultrasound.

5.  Why I love my baby already.  Again, so many reasons.  But during the ultrasound, he or she kept doing all these super-dramatic things with his or her arms -- and then, right at the end, he or she showed even more attitude by flipping over and mooning us. What a little jerk!  I am so proud.