I was 21 when I was working a temp job at a medical support company. They happened be across the parking lot from the HMO we were using. At the time, I would come back from lunch, and dream of going into the never-used-ever board room and taking a nap. I would come home from work and lay down and not get up for hours, purely exhausted. One day I decided to schedule a pregnancy test. The nurse was kind enough to stay just a few minutes extra so I could walk over; she got off at 5 just like I did. I took the test, and her response was, “That is the most pregnant pregnancy test I’ve ever seen!” I was 9 weeks pregnant. I guess so!
From that moment forward I felt so good about what was to come. Never mind that our salary was under $40K a year, or that we didn’t have much to support us let alone another human being. It was a magical moment because I say it was one :). I had been married just three years, and was ready to be pregnant.
Telling family did happen, though I don’t recall much about that. I do remember bits and pieces of that time, though. I remember getting big, the first stretch marks-I thought they looked “cute” but shouldn’t have, as they turned ugly and multiplied real fast- and wearing maternity clothes. I remember getting hand me down maternity clothes from someone; they were quickly too small for me. I also got some from my sister-in-law. They were better. And my parents bought me two dresses. I rotated between the two weekly for church.
Generally it seemed both families were happy for us, and we received just about everything we needed or wanted for the bundle of joy. We also had a shower at church and that was fun.
I had decided I wanted a “theme” for my baby’s nursery and so I also decided to make some crib bumpers and a crib quilt, and even though we were renting and shouldn’t: a wallpaper border around the room. It was all the rage at that time.
Our baby was supposed to be born January 26. The bouncing bundle was sleepy or stubborn or just not ready. On February 2 after a NST I was sent across town to the hospital to be induced. Apparently the baby had drank all the amniotic fluid and there was very little left. It was about 24 hours before I entered the surgery suite….
Thinking I could feel them cutting on me, I saw the mask lower to my face and from there I aroused to a very cranky nurse who “had” to answer my query, “What did I have?” As if every mother everywhere found out the gender ahead of time…..sigh. My little inebriated guy was safely tucked into the hospital nursery awaiting me.
And the chicken I had put out for dinner that night rested safely inside my home oven to defrost, leaving a lovely stench for dad and sister in law to hunt down. LOL.
A mere 2 weeks before ou fourth anniversary, this little angel became a wonderful Valentine’s gift to us and changed our lives forever.