Just a few days ago I showed my 3-year-old son a picture of me holding him moments after he was born. I asked him, “Who’s that?” He replied with “Mommy!” Then I pointed to the baby and asked who he thought that was and his response blew me away. “That’s my baby brover!” I explained that the baby in the picture was him., “No Mama, that’s my baby brover, that’s Junior!”
Well, B has been talking about it today and told his daddy this morning that he wants a baby brover because he is a big boy now. I would love to have another baby but my hubby on the other hand…. well lets just say it scares him to death. During my first and only pregnancy I was placed on 7 months bed rest. I had started bleeding and having sharp pains in my lower belly that the doctors could not explain. Let me jump back a little… Before we knew I was preggers, I knew I
had started to blow up puffy like a puffer fish gained a little weight, having trouble fitting into my then size 7 jeans. Also, anytime I bent over I would cringe in abdominal pain that pinched, burned, and made me feel so sick. The worst was when the pain would wake me up in the middle of the night and my future hubby finding my in the bathroom not able to get up from the floor. After two weeks of this (Because I’m stubborn) that night he decided we were going to the emergency room. The pain had subsided and I said no, we will go in the morning. I just wanted to sleep I was physically and mentally drained.
“Your pregnant.” What? No way. But the doctor wanted me to go to the hospital because he wanted them to take a look at where the pain was coming from. Pregnant is what I heard. Atopic pregnancy is all my future hubby heard. So off to the hospital we went.
I was shown the ultrasound of “THE RING OF FIRE” around “the pregnancy” is what the doctor called it, and showed me where “it” was supposed to be and where it actually was. My fallopian tube. “It” was going to kill me if I didn’t go into emergency surgery. My excitement of becoming a mommy went slamming down into confusion and devastation. All I remember as the staff (who were wonderful by the way) put me under to go to sleepy land, was me yelling “I WANT TO KEEP MY BABY! DON’T TAKE MY BABY!” And I was out.
As I was being wheeled to recovery I awoke to a groggy state yelling at my nurses and doctor again, “I wanted to keep my baby.” Over and over. Looking at one nurse accusing her it was her fault. She only softly smiled and looked away.
After that I guess I went back to sleep because when I woke back up I was told, “Youre going to be just fine, Mommy.” Mommy? What? No. I just had surgery to remove my pregnancy. Huh?
“Miss, what we saw was a ring of fire around a cyst that the pregnancy burst from. If you had come in 12 hours earlier, well, we would have completed the surgery.” I didn’t know what to think. I kind of just gasped and tried to smile. I wanted to be happy but I didn’t know how. I mean, I finally had excepted that when I awoke I wasn’t going to be a mommy. But now I am?
As time went on I became of course very happy that we were having a baby but I never had that full excitement come back. I guess I was just waiting for something else bad to happen.
So back to the bed rest… let me tell you that 7 months of sitting with your legs propped 24 hrs a day will make you gain 200 pounds. But I was
emotional happy, couldn’t reach to put my shoes on barefoot, and looked like a 5’1 oompa loompa pregnant! And then next thing I knew it was the holidays and this baby boy was due in two weeks. And then I felt uncomfortable like right before you start that damn period. Apparently I had been in labor. All day. I made myself go into labor! (Ask and I will tell you that story) I didn’t have a bag packed or anything. But off we went.
I was just hanging out with my man, saying if this is labor pain oh this is nothing! Then out of no where “HOLEY FUCKING SHIT I WANT MY DRUGS!” That continued as loud as I could until they took me to get my epidural shot. As I relaxed and laid back I noticed a slight ringing in my ears. Sound was slowly fading out and so was my vision. Like a fog slowly covering my eyes and I was trying to yell that I couldn’t see or hear but I couldn’t hear myself. All I see is everyone looking at me and I couldn’t understand why no one was moving! Help me!
Next thing I knew I’m sitting up saying I am going to get sick. There was something over my mouth and face and I felt sweaty under it. I did my thing into a bag or something. Laid back and looked at this man standing over me and told him thank you even though it was my nurse who helped me while I was throwing up. He was the guy who gave me my shot. And pumped the oxygen mask. He looked at me as though he was very confused. I didn’t understand why.
They kept me on oxygen during the whole delivery. I had liked my “happy button” so much my doctor took it away because I couldn’t feel a thing. And I liked it! Every time I “tried” to push everyone was on edge. And why did I have to wear this damn oxygen mask and why do I have all these wires taped to me and my belly. The beeps and bells. Ugh I just wanted to sleep. So I cracked jokes and slept the whole part of labor. I was lazy. I woke to a “water balloon” bursting in me and then went back to sleep. Next I awoke and said,”The baby is ready.” I couldn’t get comfortable or do anything on my back so I asked if I could lay on my side and prop my right leg up. Well that did the trick, that baby boy got himself out.
Finally home and was so ready to be there! I was laughing about everything I was remembering and then started asking my future hubby and MIL questions on all that I didn’t understand. Well, my body didn’t like that epidural shot so I died for four minutes. Flat lined. I was gone. Huh, ok so all that makes sense now. But why did I have to wear that damn mask and was hooked up to all those monitors? Well, the baby and I didn’t respond well to labor or delivery. At all. Our heart/blood pressure fell with every contraction. Every push. No body knew if baby or mommy was going to make it. Wow. my pregnancy went from a high to almost medical waste to death to holly cow I still look pregnant?
Every pound I try to work off and lose was well-earned. But I still want another baby. I now know why my hubby is scared to but I want to have that feeling. The one that was taken away from me. I want to create another life. My 3-year-old wants a baby brover. I ache for this. Even if I don’t make it but I know my baby will.
(Baby B and I 11/21/2008)