Two weeks before Christmas I brought home my bundle of love, my son. Home was my moms house, the duplex she rented from her sister. It was already a full house with my two out of three nephews living there plus my brother and mother and now my son and me. All of us crammed into a two bedroom with a makeshift bedroom in the old dinning room. The table was replaced with bunkbeds and a portable closet on one side and on the other side of the room was a tall but small dresser. I told my mom I didn't understand why she just didn't move years ago when at the tender age of 19 my sister had her first kid or even sooner when our family grew when my brother was born when I was 14. She didn't have an answer. I knew she wouldn't and when she doesn't she changes the subject. Which she did. But, I suspect she got too comfortable over the years and the years went by and she got older and more set in her ways.
She turned her attention to her new grandson. So did I. While I was in the hospital a woman from my baby group I went to while I was pregnant delivered a basinette that was from her daughter. I was grateful because a crib would have taken up a lot of the room. But, I ddid have a crib unassembled that my sons father's mother gave to me she brought from a thrift store along with a changing table.
After everyone got introduced to him I put him down for a series of two hour naps, feeding and changing. I slept when he slept. I slept in a semi sitting position because of the c-section I couldn't lie completely down if I had any intention of getting up again and so it began. The first month was hard and I was walking around with serious bags under my eyes and I couldn't tell you what day of the week it was if you paid me a million bucks. Then I got mail. Not the social security card for him I expected but a bill from the hospital. I had insurance and I looked at the bill in horror. 97,000 total. From then on I called him the 100k baby.
It took me 4 months and a million calls, letters and e-mail to get the bill taken care of in addition to taking care of a newborn and no sleep.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Monday, July 28, 2014
Homecoming!
Five days after I had my son I was told I could go home. So, I was patently waiting bin my room for the wheelchair. OK, I know in the movies they had wheelchairs and the mom is holding the new bundle of joy with the dad carrying the balloons and flowers. Now, of course my little fantasy bubble as bursted when not only did I not get a wheelchair and a cute orderly Wheeling me out I actually had to find a nurse to ask when I could go. So, thankfully the nurses station, if that's what you call it cause I don't know, was right outside my room but there were no nurses. So, I wandered around which the security guard cautioned me not to do unless I was a patient. I showed him my still attached hospital bands.
So, a couple minutes later after I went back to my room two nurses came in and I told them I was supposed to check out. One gave me a black bag filled with formula, coupons, and a few more things for the baby. I told my sons father to take the bag to the car check that the car seat as secured properly. Then both nursed disappeared. I sat waiting. So, I got tired of waiting and once again went in search of a nurse. I found one. She checked my paperwork and said I was good to ho. Then she checked my hospital tags and the ones on my baby to make sure the right mom and baby were going home together.
By that time my sons father was back and informed me he pulled the car in front. I was glsf I didn't have to remind him. So, the nurse picked up my baby and I half joked about my wheelchair and cute orderly. She half smiled and said no it wasn't done like that anymore. I almost asked by how many years had I missed it but didn't. She explained that she had to carry the baby to the car it was hospital policy. So, we all walked to the elevators and squeezed in with two other people, probably visitors. I walked slowly behind the nurse and my sons father. He turned around twice making sure I hadn't gotten lost in the non existent crowd. He formed his lips to say something but once I shot him the evil eye he thought better.
Once everyone was seat belted in the car we were on the road for the 15 minute ride home.
So, a couple minutes later after I went back to my room two nurses came in and I told them I was supposed to check out. One gave me a black bag filled with formula, coupons, and a few more things for the baby. I told my sons father to take the bag to the car check that the car seat as secured properly. Then both nursed disappeared. I sat waiting. So, I got tired of waiting and once again went in search of a nurse. I found one. She checked my paperwork and said I was good to ho. Then she checked my hospital tags and the ones on my baby to make sure the right mom and baby were going home together.
By that time my sons father was back and informed me he pulled the car in front. I was glsf I didn't have to remind him. So, the nurse picked up my baby and I half joked about my wheelchair and cute orderly. She half smiled and said no it wasn't done like that anymore. I almost asked by how many years had I missed it but didn't. She explained that she had to carry the baby to the car it was hospital policy. So, we all walked to the elevators and squeezed in with two other people, probably visitors. I walked slowly behind the nurse and my sons father. He turned around twice making sure I hadn't gotten lost in the non existent crowd. He formed his lips to say something but once I shot him the evil eye he thought better.
Once everyone was seat belted in the car we were on the road for the 15 minute ride home.
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Sonogram #1
I had my first sonogram when I was 5 months pregnant. I remember it was the day after my brothers birthday. I drank more water then I had probably ever drank in my entire life that day. Thankfully the bathroom was just a few steps from the room they put me in for the sonogram. And the wait time was minimal from the time I checked in at the front desk to the time they called me into the room for the test.
My sons father was with me and of course the only sonograms I had witnessed were on TV. On TV they have huge screens that would give some TVs a run for the money in real life. The woman would usually be in a bed that looked comfortable and she usually had at least three or four pillows behind her head and the hairs on top of her head were never out of place. And dressed in unrevealing hospital gowns that magically close in the front and back they smile and their gown is carefully lifted off of their big or medium size bellys and something that looks in between slime and jelly is placed on the tummy and a doctor usually smiles at the couple, the husband sitting on a stool right by the gorgeous wife holding her hand as they lovingly gaze at each other and look at the screen in font of them as the doctor points at the screen and says the baby is a healthy boy or girl.
Well, my experience was a whole lot different from the fantasy in my mind. The room was dark and reminded me of what a dark room must look like back in the day when pictures were developed that way routinely. It was a large room. On one side was a small stool. That's where my sons father was directed to sit by the technician. She was an older blonde woman with a short haircut wearing pink scrubs and no smile. She then motioned me to the table on the other side of the room where the table was. The same sort of table that's in any doctors office anywhere nothing special. It was hard and uncomfortable and only had on pillow on the end of the table. I hobbled up on the table fully dressed and laid down as told. The screen was on my left side along with the technician. I couldn't see it even if I turned my head in that direction. I was not happy until she gave me a mirror and asked if I wanted to see. I thought that was a dumb question of course I did. I was told to lift my shirt just enough to uncover my stomach. I did. She then put the goo stuff on my stomach that to my surprise wasn't cold at all. So, then the sonogram began. I held up the hand mirror and felt bad for my sons father whom I knew couldn't see a thing from a stool across the room. They never told him he could move closer so we both assumed he couldn't. I looked in the hand mirror the best I could and my son wasn't having any of it and kept moving around like crazy. I asked if it was a boy or girl and she pointed to the screen and said boy.
It probably took all of 20 minutes from start to finish if that long. I got a few grainy pictures and off to the bathroom I ran.
After I got back home I was looking at the pictures and in one picture from the sonogram my son had his fist raised like when you are excited after spinning the wheel on the Price is Right and you get a dollar. I know. That's what I get for watching the price is right every morning. Then a name came in my mind. No, not Bob Barker. But, the name Joshua.
I knew that would be his first name. My sons father laughed and said it must have been divine intervention or something that gave me that name.o looked at him and smiled and said yep that's his name.
My sons father was with me and of course the only sonograms I had witnessed were on TV. On TV they have huge screens that would give some TVs a run for the money in real life. The woman would usually be in a bed that looked comfortable and she usually had at least three or four pillows behind her head and the hairs on top of her head were never out of place. And dressed in unrevealing hospital gowns that magically close in the front and back they smile and their gown is carefully lifted off of their big or medium size bellys and something that looks in between slime and jelly is placed on the tummy and a doctor usually smiles at the couple, the husband sitting on a stool right by the gorgeous wife holding her hand as they lovingly gaze at each other and look at the screen in font of them as the doctor points at the screen and says the baby is a healthy boy or girl.
Well, my experience was a whole lot different from the fantasy in my mind. The room was dark and reminded me of what a dark room must look like back in the day when pictures were developed that way routinely. It was a large room. On one side was a small stool. That's where my sons father was directed to sit by the technician. She was an older blonde woman with a short haircut wearing pink scrubs and no smile. She then motioned me to the table on the other side of the room where the table was. The same sort of table that's in any doctors office anywhere nothing special. It was hard and uncomfortable and only had on pillow on the end of the table. I hobbled up on the table fully dressed and laid down as told. The screen was on my left side along with the technician. I couldn't see it even if I turned my head in that direction. I was not happy until she gave me a mirror and asked if I wanted to see. I thought that was a dumb question of course I did. I was told to lift my shirt just enough to uncover my stomach. I did. She then put the goo stuff on my stomach that to my surprise wasn't cold at all. So, then the sonogram began. I held up the hand mirror and felt bad for my sons father whom I knew couldn't see a thing from a stool across the room. They never told him he could move closer so we both assumed he couldn't. I looked in the hand mirror the best I could and my son wasn't having any of it and kept moving around like crazy. I asked if it was a boy or girl and she pointed to the screen and said boy.
It probably took all of 20 minutes from start to finish if that long. I got a few grainy pictures and off to the bathroom I ran.
After I got back home I was looking at the pictures and in one picture from the sonogram my son had his fist raised like when you are excited after spinning the wheel on the Price is Right and you get a dollar. I know. That's what I get for watching the price is right every morning. Then a name came in my mind. No, not Bob Barker. But, the name Joshua.
I knew that would be his first name. My sons father laughed and said it must have been divine intervention or something that gave me that name.o looked at him and smiled and said yep that's his name.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
We Did It!
The longest night of my life turned out to be the longest 3 days. I was checked, prodded and poked not too mention moved two hundred times per minute by the various nurses. I had never had my blood pressure taken so many times in my life. I had never been hooked up to do many things either.
By day 3 I was secretly cursing my sons father only because he was the only person other then the room besides the never ending parade of nurses and doctors. When I was waken up at 4 am and still no progress in dialating past 6 cm I said to the nurse enough was enough. Although I was not looking forward to go home to a hot leather couch as a bed but I was more then ready to have this baby.
The doctor explained to me about caesarian sections and said that the scar won't be too noticeable in case I wanted to go to the beach wearing a bikini. Now I was flattered that this doctor thought my body was good enough before pregnancy to wear a bikini. Little did he know the last time I wore anything that resembled a bikini was in the ninth grade. But, I just nodded in agreement.
I was rolled to the operation room which looked nothing like I had envisioned. The ones on TV have lights overhead and phones for the doctors to use in case. I don't know what in case the phones are for but I see them on TV and in some movies. And classical music is always playing. My operating room was more of a big and wide open space and to my right was another room with a wall in between the two rooms. No door on my room or the room over as far as I could tell. Two men lifted me on to a table like surface and one nurse commented to the men to be careful cause I as heavy. I gave her the evil eye. Of course I was heavy then her size 0 little non pregnant body. I almost said something but common sense returned to my labored brain just in time.
My sons father was told to sit on a stool after he changed into the appropriate scrubs. Of course they didn't direct him he could move the stool so he wouldn't have to look at the bloody parts of everything. So there he sat in horror watching the operation from about 20 feet away.
I don't like the oxygen masks they made me wear but it was necessary. The little rust colored pills they gave me to settle my stomach but about halfway through the pills made me sick and there I was throwing up in a little sliver pan the anesthesiologist held for me since I could not move my arms or anything else. He assured me that it was fine and I was fine.
I then heard a little while later the doctor singing to the top ten pop song on the radio and a few minutes later the doctor said that it was almost time. And then the baby was here. The nurse took him to the other side of the room with my dons father closely following behind her. Two minutes later I heard his first cry.
I could not really see anything just hearing his cries told me he was healthy. It seemed like forever before I finally got to see him. I was still being stapled back together and the nurse brought him to me. I kissed his little cheek and two seconds later I was out like a light snoring.
The next time I woke up a nurse was standing over me and my new born son was in the baby bed thing beside me.
I looked at my so through groogy eyes and whispered hello Joshua we did it.
By day 3 I was secretly cursing my sons father only because he was the only person other then the room besides the never ending parade of nurses and doctors. When I was waken up at 4 am and still no progress in dialating past 6 cm I said to the nurse enough was enough. Although I was not looking forward to go home to a hot leather couch as a bed but I was more then ready to have this baby.
The doctor explained to me about caesarian sections and said that the scar won't be too noticeable in case I wanted to go to the beach wearing a bikini. Now I was flattered that this doctor thought my body was good enough before pregnancy to wear a bikini. Little did he know the last time I wore anything that resembled a bikini was in the ninth grade. But, I just nodded in agreement.
I was rolled to the operation room which looked nothing like I had envisioned. The ones on TV have lights overhead and phones for the doctors to use in case. I don't know what in case the phones are for but I see them on TV and in some movies. And classical music is always playing. My operating room was more of a big and wide open space and to my right was another room with a wall in between the two rooms. No door on my room or the room over as far as I could tell. Two men lifted me on to a table like surface and one nurse commented to the men to be careful cause I as heavy. I gave her the evil eye. Of course I was heavy then her size 0 little non pregnant body. I almost said something but common sense returned to my labored brain just in time.
My sons father was told to sit on a stool after he changed into the appropriate scrubs. Of course they didn't direct him he could move the stool so he wouldn't have to look at the bloody parts of everything. So there he sat in horror watching the operation from about 20 feet away.
I don't like the oxygen masks they made me wear but it was necessary. The little rust colored pills they gave me to settle my stomach but about halfway through the pills made me sick and there I was throwing up in a little sliver pan the anesthesiologist held for me since I could not move my arms or anything else. He assured me that it was fine and I was fine.
I then heard a little while later the doctor singing to the top ten pop song on the radio and a few minutes later the doctor said that it was almost time. And then the baby was here. The nurse took him to the other side of the room with my dons father closely following behind her. Two minutes later I heard his first cry.
I could not really see anything just hearing his cries told me he was healthy. It seemed like forever before I finally got to see him. I was still being stapled back together and the nurse brought him to me. I kissed his little cheek and two seconds later I was out like a light snoring.
The next time I woke up a nurse was standing over me and my new born son was in the baby bed thing beside me.
I looked at my so through groogy eyes and whispered hello Joshua we did it.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Longest Night
I thought I would be in labor for hours but not days. In my mind I was going to the hospital be induced, screaming at everyone and after a lot of pushing and sweating and probably more then a little swearing the baby would be born and I would hold him saying how beautiful he was and crying tears of joy that my baby boy was here.
Not how it happened in real life. After more and more painful contractions I did something I didn't plan to do and asked for an epidural. The nurse looked at me pitifully and I rolled my eyes with the contraction and felt no shame. I was there for two days almost and wasn't making any progress in my dialation and I now completely understood the full meaning of labor and understood why women did a lot of cursing and screaming.
The nurse reminded me that after I got the shot I would not be able to get out of bed. At that point I didn't care if my feet every touched the floor for the duration of my stay. So, I said that was fine while my sons father was napping on the couch they had in the room to make it more comfortable for everyone. Everyone meaning him I guess since he was the only one using it. Before I had the shot I did wake him up.
A doctor returned with a different nurse and once they looked at my chart and noticed my decline into senior citizen hood, from the look I got I assumed that I was close to right. The nurse told me her mom didn't have her until she was 45 and the doctor said his mom didn't have him until 43. I guess in an attempt to make me feel better. It really didn't help.
I sat on the side of the bed preparing myself for more pain but the doctor said it would feel like a pinch. I wasn't sure that I believed him but as long as it wasn't as painful as the back to back contractions I was feeling I was good.
A few minutes later I was laying in bed pain free. The nurse and doctor left and they said get some rest. Rest was impossible since every five seconds someone was coming in and out to check blood pressure, reading the contraction machine I was hooked up to or taking my tempature. Not too mention moving me from one side of the bed to the other cause the baby preferred the left side at midnight and then the right side at 3 am. So, I was rolled from side to side with a pillow between my knees and later an oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth.
I was in for the longest night of my life so far.
Not how it happened in real life. After more and more painful contractions I did something I didn't plan to do and asked for an epidural. The nurse looked at me pitifully and I rolled my eyes with the contraction and felt no shame. I was there for two days almost and wasn't making any progress in my dialation and I now completely understood the full meaning of labor and understood why women did a lot of cursing and screaming.
The nurse reminded me that after I got the shot I would not be able to get out of bed. At that point I didn't care if my feet every touched the floor for the duration of my stay. So, I said that was fine while my sons father was napping on the couch they had in the room to make it more comfortable for everyone. Everyone meaning him I guess since he was the only one using it. Before I had the shot I did wake him up.
A doctor returned with a different nurse and once they looked at my chart and noticed my decline into senior citizen hood, from the look I got I assumed that I was close to right. The nurse told me her mom didn't have her until she was 45 and the doctor said his mom didn't have him until 43. I guess in an attempt to make me feel better. It really didn't help.
I sat on the side of the bed preparing myself for more pain but the doctor said it would feel like a pinch. I wasn't sure that I believed him but as long as it wasn't as painful as the back to back contractions I was feeling I was good.
A few minutes later I was laying in bed pain free. The nurse and doctor left and they said get some rest. Rest was impossible since every five seconds someone was coming in and out to check blood pressure, reading the contraction machine I was hooked up to or taking my tempature. Not too mention moving me from one side of the bed to the other cause the baby preferred the left side at midnight and then the right side at 3 am. So, I was rolled from side to side with a pillow between my knees and later an oxygen mask covering my nose and mouth.
I was in for the longest night of my life so far.
Monday, July 14, 2014
The Middle
For the first two months of my pregnancy I was fine. No morning sickness no nothing. I ate what I wanted to when I wanted to. The only thing was that I was just tired all the time. A tired that I was not used to. I certainly was not used to falling asleep in class. I did twice before I said ok this is not going to work and I had to make arrangements with the teacher to come later and leave earlier before the sleepiness really hit me and before I started snoring head down on the table. Fortunately, I only had one semester of courses left before I got my degree and the teachers were understanding to me being pregnant a few years before I would have to seriously consider what retirement home I would go into for my twilight years.
I just couldn't get enough sleep. My mom figured out that something was wrong when all I did was sleep for more then I should. I finally told her when I was further along so she wouldn't have started calling up all of her friends discussing my sleeping patterns and guess what disease I could have. Next think I would have known I would have a prayer circle going in about ten churches praying for my recovery of something unknown. So, it was best I told her. She was sort of surprised but since she had been through three grandsons already she was not really shocked at the news. I think she was thinking that I sure picked a late time in life to reproduce.
The morning, noon and night sickness kicked in the month of my birthday, in May. I was sick all day long. It didn't matter what I ate or when I ate it I was always running for the nearest bathroom. Smells didn't fair much better with me. Suddenly, I was smelling everything and everything I was smelling was making me sick too. I never imagined that it would be this way and I secretly cursed every woman in my family who had babies that never told me that I would be making mad dashes to the bathroom morning, noon, and night and making me think it was a piece of cake. Speaking of cakes, I couldn't even eat my birthday cake. The rich strawberries and cream that topped it was too much for me to digest. I took one tiny, tiny piece, or tiny for me and nope I was off and running ten seconds after I ate it. I was used to having orange juice for breakfast and that too went the way of the dinosaur for 9 months. The only way I could drink any juice was watered down. Next came the heartburn and tums became a permanent part of my shopping list for the next several months. I knew that if I ate and actually kept it down that the heart burn would follow. They say if you have a lot of heartburn then the baby will have a lot of hair. I thought that my baby would look like cousin IT as much heart burn as I was having.
I was lucky enough to still fit in my jeans until about 4.5 months and then it was time to shop for more clothes. Luckily by that time I had graduated from school and was now in a baby group that I happen to find out about on my second trip to the doctor by accident. I was sitting waiting for my appointment and this woman was there handing out flyers about a group run by the city for free. They would even pick you up and take you to appointments and I was loving that part since I didn't have a car. I immediately joined.
My sister and I went to Ross to shop for maternity clothes. There stock was limited to say the least. I found two pairs of jeans for $4 on sale, the last two in my size and since I couldn't find a top that I actually liked I wandered to the men's section and found a couple of tee shirt in size xxxl or something. I didn't know how big that size was actually but when I looked at the size of the shirts I figured they would take me all the way up the delivery room and they did. Maternity shopping done. My sister laughed at me because I was so easy to please. I told her why spend hundreds of dollars of clothes that I don't plan to wear again, ever, ever. I knew that this would be my first and last child. A month later I ordered a new maternity bra and that was $12 the most I spent on a maternity anything.
For the next few months my body changed, things got huge and if I had been pregnant any longer I am sure my butt would have had it own zip code. My son did the most kicking when we went to the doctor and they listened for his heartbeat. He didn't like being messed with I guess. I think he gets that from me.
Three sonograms later and two weeks late I was in the hospital. I went for my usual appointment and the nurse said to me that she thought that I would have given birth by now. I looked at my huge belly and told her nope not yet. I was admitted and then the real fun began.
I just couldn't get enough sleep. My mom figured out that something was wrong when all I did was sleep for more then I should. I finally told her when I was further along so she wouldn't have started calling up all of her friends discussing my sleeping patterns and guess what disease I could have. Next think I would have known I would have a prayer circle going in about ten churches praying for my recovery of something unknown. So, it was best I told her. She was sort of surprised but since she had been through three grandsons already she was not really shocked at the news. I think she was thinking that I sure picked a late time in life to reproduce.
The morning, noon and night sickness kicked in the month of my birthday, in May. I was sick all day long. It didn't matter what I ate or when I ate it I was always running for the nearest bathroom. Smells didn't fair much better with me. Suddenly, I was smelling everything and everything I was smelling was making me sick too. I never imagined that it would be this way and I secretly cursed every woman in my family who had babies that never told me that I would be making mad dashes to the bathroom morning, noon, and night and making me think it was a piece of cake. Speaking of cakes, I couldn't even eat my birthday cake. The rich strawberries and cream that topped it was too much for me to digest. I took one tiny, tiny piece, or tiny for me and nope I was off and running ten seconds after I ate it. I was used to having orange juice for breakfast and that too went the way of the dinosaur for 9 months. The only way I could drink any juice was watered down. Next came the heartburn and tums became a permanent part of my shopping list for the next several months. I knew that if I ate and actually kept it down that the heart burn would follow. They say if you have a lot of heartburn then the baby will have a lot of hair. I thought that my baby would look like cousin IT as much heart burn as I was having.
I was lucky enough to still fit in my jeans until about 4.5 months and then it was time to shop for more clothes. Luckily by that time I had graduated from school and was now in a baby group that I happen to find out about on my second trip to the doctor by accident. I was sitting waiting for my appointment and this woman was there handing out flyers about a group run by the city for free. They would even pick you up and take you to appointments and I was loving that part since I didn't have a car. I immediately joined.
My sister and I went to Ross to shop for maternity clothes. There stock was limited to say the least. I found two pairs of jeans for $4 on sale, the last two in my size and since I couldn't find a top that I actually liked I wandered to the men's section and found a couple of tee shirt in size xxxl or something. I didn't know how big that size was actually but when I looked at the size of the shirts I figured they would take me all the way up the delivery room and they did. Maternity shopping done. My sister laughed at me because I was so easy to please. I told her why spend hundreds of dollars of clothes that I don't plan to wear again, ever, ever. I knew that this would be my first and last child. A month later I ordered a new maternity bra and that was $12 the most I spent on a maternity anything.
For the next few months my body changed, things got huge and if I had been pregnant any longer I am sure my butt would have had it own zip code. My son did the most kicking when we went to the doctor and they listened for his heartbeat. He didn't like being messed with I guess. I think he gets that from me.
Three sonograms later and two weeks late I was in the hospital. I went for my usual appointment and the nurse said to me that she thought that I would have given birth by now. I looked at my huge belly and told her nope not yet. I was admitted and then the real fun began.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
The News
On February 7, 2004 I found myself sitting in the doctors office after 2 missed periods. I suppose I could have went to the drug store and purchased a home pregnancy test but I was not thinking pregnancy. I was thinking stress or possibly menopause catching up to my older body.
Sitting across the desk from me that day as I waited for my test results was a petite young woman with a short Bob haircut. Holding in her hands were two things. She had a piece of paper in one hand and a pregnancy test, the drug store kind, in the other hand. She smiled slightly and said the three words I never thought I would hear. She said, " You are pregnant!"
I tried to contain my shock as I asked her if she was sure. She showed me the test again and I swallowed hard trying to process what I had just heard. I was happy when my brief moment of shock wore off.
My sister was there with me and after I walked out the office into the waiting room I told my sister the news and she was over the moon happy. The next person I had to tell was my sons father.
When I got home I called him. After I told him the news I heard a loud thug hit the floor. I wasn't sure if it was him fainting or the phone dropping on the floor. So, a few seconds later I heard a hello back to my numerous Hello's. Apparently, he dropped the phone to the floor not his body. I was glad it was only the phone. A few minutes of silence followed the Hello's and after he processed the words I told him he was more then happy.
And so the journey began.
Sitting across the desk from me that day as I waited for my test results was a petite young woman with a short Bob haircut. Holding in her hands were two things. She had a piece of paper in one hand and a pregnancy test, the drug store kind, in the other hand. She smiled slightly and said the three words I never thought I would hear. She said, " You are pregnant!"
I tried to contain my shock as I asked her if she was sure. She showed me the test again and I swallowed hard trying to process what I had just heard. I was happy when my brief moment of shock wore off.
My sister was there with me and after I walked out the office into the waiting room I told my sister the news and she was over the moon happy. The next person I had to tell was my sons father.
When I got home I called him. After I told him the news I heard a loud thug hit the floor. I wasn't sure if it was him fainting or the phone dropping on the floor. So, a few seconds later I heard a hello back to my numerous Hello's. Apparently, he dropped the phone to the floor not his body. I was glad it was only the phone. A few minutes of silence followed the Hello's and after he processed the words I told him he was more then happy.
And so the journey began.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
The Beginnings
Most of the women I knew by the time their 40th birthday arrives they are pretty well established in a career, and motherhood and just basically have most of their live together.
I wasn't one of those women. I was the complete opposite. By the time I was blowing out 40 candles on my birthday cake I was a hot mess as one of my friends would say. A couple years earlier I was in a relationship that I had spent ten years in and really should not have given him the time of day or ten minutes of my time. But, we all have had those relationships if we live long enough. Since I was then living with him before the break up in a city I detested I had no other option but to move back where my mom was living. My mom never owned her own home like most of her friends. She rented from her sister, a duplex, for many, many years. In retrospect she should have moved ten seconds after she moved in. But, she didn't. So, by the time I had to move back to the city I basically grew up in, ,y younger sister whom never moved out back then, but had 3 kids also living there with my mom and younger brother in a 2 bedroom duplex it was already a full house.
Carrying two suitcases and a bag of dirty laundry there I was standing outside my mom's porch knocking on the front door asking for a place to stay at 38 years old. She didn't ask a lot of questions which was good cause I did not want to give a lot of answers. Everything else, material wise was lost in transition, meaning I never got too much more out of the house I basically ran from and the man.
Back at home and sleeping on a hot leather couch in the front room and lights from the computer shinning in my eyes all night long, because my oldest teen nephew lived online and refused to go to bed until the crack of 3 am every night. I could either laugh or cry so I laughed and held on to the hope this was only going to be temporary. After all, I still had a job and figured after a year at most of saving I would be good to go.
Boy, was I wrong. I had never been so wrong.
Three things happened in three years that I was totally not thinking was in the realm of my possibility of happening. First, I lost my job after 10 years almost 11 years of working there. I got injured and the next thing I knew I was being medically seperated from ,y job and sent settlement papers and basically that was it. They did send me for vocational training and I did have high hopes of getting another job but those hopes got dashed also. After 4 months of training to be an A+ certified computer technician I couldn't buy a job close or far from home because rejection letter after rejection letter all said the same three words " not enough experience" and I couldn't argue. I had none.
Second thing happened was I met someone. I had no intention of getting involved with anyone after that bad break up about a year before. We clicked. We said said we only wanted to be friends. Friendship turned into romance which led to the 3rd thing.
Eighteen and a half months later after meeting the new guy and going back to school to get my degree in biotechnology I found out I was expecting my first and only child.
All of these things changed my life forever.
I wasn't one of those women. I was the complete opposite. By the time I was blowing out 40 candles on my birthday cake I was a hot mess as one of my friends would say. A couple years earlier I was in a relationship that I had spent ten years in and really should not have given him the time of day or ten minutes of my time. But, we all have had those relationships if we live long enough. Since I was then living with him before the break up in a city I detested I had no other option but to move back where my mom was living. My mom never owned her own home like most of her friends. She rented from her sister, a duplex, for many, many years. In retrospect she should have moved ten seconds after she moved in. But, she didn't. So, by the time I had to move back to the city I basically grew up in, ,y younger sister whom never moved out back then, but had 3 kids also living there with my mom and younger brother in a 2 bedroom duplex it was already a full house.
Carrying two suitcases and a bag of dirty laundry there I was standing outside my mom's porch knocking on the front door asking for a place to stay at 38 years old. She didn't ask a lot of questions which was good cause I did not want to give a lot of answers. Everything else, material wise was lost in transition, meaning I never got too much more out of the house I basically ran from and the man.
Back at home and sleeping on a hot leather couch in the front room and lights from the computer shinning in my eyes all night long, because my oldest teen nephew lived online and refused to go to bed until the crack of 3 am every night. I could either laugh or cry so I laughed and held on to the hope this was only going to be temporary. After all, I still had a job and figured after a year at most of saving I would be good to go.
Boy, was I wrong. I had never been so wrong.
Three things happened in three years that I was totally not thinking was in the realm of my possibility of happening. First, I lost my job after 10 years almost 11 years of working there. I got injured and the next thing I knew I was being medically seperated from ,y job and sent settlement papers and basically that was it. They did send me for vocational training and I did have high hopes of getting another job but those hopes got dashed also. After 4 months of training to be an A+ certified computer technician I couldn't buy a job close or far from home because rejection letter after rejection letter all said the same three words " not enough experience" and I couldn't argue. I had none.
Second thing happened was I met someone. I had no intention of getting involved with anyone after that bad break up about a year before. We clicked. We said said we only wanted to be friends. Friendship turned into romance which led to the 3rd thing.
Eighteen and a half months later after meeting the new guy and going back to school to get my degree in biotechnology I found out I was expecting my first and only child.
All of these things changed my life forever.
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