Tag Archives: pregnancy

It happens sometimes.

Sometimes women get morning sickness when they’re pregnant.  You know, nauseous in the morning, have to take it slow, eat a few crackers and get on with their day.  They’ll throw up once in a while, but overall are able to continue on with their regular routine.  Then there are folks ME.  You know, if there’s going to be a “well, it happens sometimes,” I’m going to be the “sometimes.”  It’s just my luck.  I had “sometimes” in one way or another with all three of my pregnancies and deliveries, but pregnancy #1 takes the prize.

It all started out with such promise.  All hubby and I had to do was blink at each other and “poof” I was pregnant.  Easy peasy, first month we tried.  Until one morning very early on I woke up and felt like someone had whacked me in the head, dizzy as hell.  Then I tried to get up and was so nauseous I couldn’t stand up straight.  I kid you not, that feeling didn’t go away for TWO MONTHS.  That’s right.  Not just in the morning either – my “morning” sickness lasted ALL DAY and ALL NIGHT – the only break I had was when I managed to sleep.   It’s a good thing I wasn’t working at the time because I barely left the couch for TWO MONTHS.  It happens sometimes.

I tried anything to feel better.  Any little piece of advice, even if it was an old wives’ tale I tried it, cause I was that desperate.  Nothing worked.  My husband started to lose patience.  He was a little “iffy” on the whole pregnancy thing to begin with – we both though it would take a while and that the trying would be fun.  Instead I got pregnant right away and I was reduced to this whiny needy blob.  He was beginning to resent the life we had made for what it was doing to me, and truth be told so was I.  It was so bad people at church were sending me flowers.  Two months this went on till slowly, ever SO slowly, I started to feel better.  Not great, but I least I could walk upright.  All told, I lost almost 10 pounds my first trimester.

The second and third trimesters were a breeze comparatively.  I could actually function.  I wasn’t serving in a church at the time, but I could supply preach (filling in for pastors on vacation), and it felt good to put on my professional hat again, even if it was just for Sunday mornings.  It was neat to feel the baby kick and move around, and I could finally relax a little and let the whole pregnancy and motherhood thing sink in and even feel happy.   Thank goodness my husband and I had that time to bond with the baby.

When time came to prepare for the birth I had a decision to make.  Drugs or no drugs.  I have no problem taking drugs for pain.  A headache?  Where’s the Tylenol?  I’m all for it.  Now the most common form of pain relief in labor is an epidural.  Except I was really scared of having a needle in my SPINE, so I opted instead for a narcotic.  BIG mistake.  Instead of taking the edge off my pain, I went on a bad trip.  You read that right – a bad trip.  Did you know that happens sometimes?  I couldn’t form a coherent sentence.  The room was moving on me.  I couldn’t coordinate my body movements.  By the time the drug wore off I begged for that needle in my spine, but it was too late.

Then “sometimes” happened again.  The baby (we didn’t know the gender) got stuck.  You know, it happens sometimes.  I pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed and that little critter was just “hung up” and NOT moving.  They put me in all kinds of positions hoping the baby would shift and finish the journey out (SO much fun when you’re in hard labor to be moving around like a gymnast while trying to shake off a bad drug trip) but no luck.  Finally the doctor intervened because sometimes they have to.  He had to use a vacuum (I can’t believe that’s what they call that thing, but the description fits).  The pressure was enormous and frightening, but then I felt a POP, and she practically flew out!  It was a girl!  Hurray!  Except I was really too tired to care, as long as she was healthy, and we did have a little moment when we were worried.  There was meconium because, you know, it happens sometimes, so the on call pediatrician had to check her over, but she was fine.  Thank God.

And me?  You know that tremendous POP I felt when she finally came out?  Did you know that sometimes a woman can actually break her tailbone giving birth?  Yeah.  My daughter did that to me.  Recovering from that, plus trying to care for a newborn, was NOT fun.  It’s a miracle I agreed to have more children, it really is.  That, or as one friend said, insanity

moments after E was born, looking a little tired and beat up

moments after E was born, I’m looking a little tired and beat up

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unplanned addition

It was September.  I had just starting serving “very” part-time at a tiny older congregation.  My oldest daughter started full-day kindergarten, my other daughter (with autism) would be starting full-day preschool in a few months, and I saw my 40th birthday right around the corner.  I would be turning 40 and getting a little of my “old” life back, with my new job and the girls in school.  While dealing with G’s special needs wasn’t easy, with her in school all day I could see light at the end of the tunnel.  My husband was happy in his church call.  We seemed to have finally hit a groove.

Then my period was late.  I am NEVER late.  I tried not to get too worked up about it.  We were using birth control after all.  Probably just a fluke.  Except a few days passed and I STILL didn’t get my period.  Damn.  I was even afraid to buy a pregnancy test.  If I bought one, that would mean there was a possibility…

C and I had decided NOT to have any more children.  G’s issues were stretching us kind of thin, and we still needed time to give E the attention that SHE needed.  Financially we were “ok,” but not more than that.  With me going back to church work a few hours a week that would help, but we were definitely watching pennies.  Two was enough for us.  This could not be happening.

I won’t go into the gory details of the pregnancy test and the “strong” words I used when it was positive.  Let it be enough to say that I was NOT happy.  Miserable would be a better word.  Stunned.  I was about to get my life back.  I had just started a new call.  What the fuck?  I can’t remember how long it took me to calm down and resolve myself to having a new child in the house, but it was not easy and it took a good long time.

By the time J was born he was loved by all four of us.  The girls were thrilled with the idea of a little sibling, although I’m not sure either of them realized how it would disrupt the house.  I KNOW that G didn’t get it.  C was thrilled with a son, simply happy that he wouldn’t be the only male in the house!  Happy as we were, we still weren’t sure how we were going to manage it all:  three kids, one with special needs, and me having to take leave from my job because I’ve always wanted to be home when the kids were small.

Our unplanned addition entered our lives in person 7 1/2 years ago, and somehow we HAVE managed it.  Not perfectly, but doing the best we can.  We can’t imagine our lives without him.  He has been a tremendous joy and gift.

baking "J" - I still had 6 more weeks to go at this point - he was over NINE pounds when born!

baking “J” – I still had 6 more weeks to go at this point – he was over NINE pounds when born!