So I know that I had previously mentioned that the inspiration behind the blogging was to get back to "me" - when I was around 22 weeks pregnant... and that's where it all started. I was thinking about how scared I was to be pregnant again after losing my daughter in January and how that experience had been affecting the way that I looked at this pregnancy. I, consciously, know that they are different circumstances and that they aren't comparable, but I find myself constantly drawing parallels between them, comparing and contrasting the symptoms/growth/movements/emotions/etc. This week is the one that corresponds with the gestational week that I was at when I lost Kylie (and Nate is in Phoenix), and I wanted to "cope" with it by documenting her story. Likely, it will take a few posts... so bear with me.
Maybe a little backstory is necessary.
In the fall of 2004, when I was 17, I was raped (and never discussed this incident with anyone, including my parents, hoping that it would just have never happened if I didn't think about it... silly, I know) and looking back, I believe that I had a miscarriage because of the beatings my body was taking during cheerleading. The following spring, I saw an endocrinologist and was told that I wasn't ovulating and that I'd never be able to have children of my own. Fast forward two years and my gynecologist and I were discussing this prediction and she recommended that I be on the pill in order to jumpstart my body's egg release-instinct. Fast forward another 3 years and I met Nate and we both knew that we wanted kids down the line. I was on the pill when I got pregnant with Kylie and so unbelievably surprised that I can't even begin to express it in words.
I had taken 5 pregnancy tests that had all come back negative because I had missed two periods (not uncommon in my younger days when I'd go 5 months without, but I was just getting to the point where they were getting more regular with the birth control pill I was on). Then, one day while I was at work, one of the agents made a comment about being a "little mama" and having to play mother hen to everyone. I immediately thought back to the last couple mornings when all I wanted for breakfast was a sausage and gravy biscuit! So during lunch, I ran over to CVS and bought a pregnancy test, snuck a cup out of our kitchen and holed myself up in the bathroom at work... and thought I was going to pass out when that second line turned pink. So I tried another test. Positive. And another. Still positive. I was freaking out at this point!
So after work, I bought a jar of baby food (bananas, since Nate and I had talked about how there were baby foods that were really quite tasty) and planned my delivery speech for when he got home. I took him into the bedroom, told him to close his eyes, and put the jar in his hand. When he opened his eyes, he just kept looking between it and me, and I blurted out "I'm pregnant" and immediately burst into tears. I don't know why the tears; this was, ultimately - though not necessarily at that exact moment, what we were aiming for and I knew that he loves babies and would be a terrific daddy (again), but I was scared that he would be upset at the timing, I guess. We talked it through and came to terms with it, deciding that we were surprised, but happy for the news.
When I went home two days later to break the news to my parents, they were a little more shocked. I think that they didn't really know Nate and were unsure about our future together (we'd only KNOWN each other for 10 months, and been dating for 9). But they eventually got on board. My mother insisted (no, literally, she told me that it was non-negotiable that she be involved every step of the way) on being a part of this experience.
I was already about 8 weeks pregnant when I found out, and 9 when I made it to the doctor for the initial visit. When they put the doppler to my belly and I heard that "whoosh-whoosh-whoosh" of the heartbeat, I was awestruck that we had created another person! The appointment, as a whole, was terrible, since they wouldn't let me bring my husband and mother into the room for the ultrasound - and we switched practices. The new place offered a midwife - Donna - who was incredible.
The first trimester was a breeze! About 14 weeks, I had a biophysical profile for Nate's insurance company and it was noted that I was spilling quite a bit of sugar into my urine, so the OBGYN did the glucose test early. It was determined that I had gestational diabetes and that I'd monitor at home and they'd track the baby's growth. The second trimester is when the nastiness kicked in. I was sick all the time - throwing up at work, on the side of the road, in the grocery store, at home, in the Wal-Mart parking lot, wherever, whenever. But my skin was clear, my hair was shiny, and I wasn't getting huge (in fact, I was having a really hard time putting on any weight), so I thought it was pretty well-balanced.
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