"Hi, baby!" I shrieked, happily.
"You're pregnant!" He said, shakily.
"YES!!!" I said. "I AM!!!"
"You are pregnant! Holy shit, you're pregnant." He said, again, shakily.
"It just hit you didn't it?" I asked shyly.
I could see him in my head, smiling, heart racing, picturing me on the other side of the phone too.
"Yeah. It did." He replied, not so shakily anymore.
The first few weeks I spotted. A lot. I was so over protective of this little baby growing slowly inside of me, I was anxious about peeing. I didn't want the baby to come out while I pissed. (Yes, I know that's not how it works).
The bleeding stopped immediately after I quit my job.
(They were absolutely cruel to their workers. After I kindly asked to not work closing shifts, dude to my high risk pregnancy, my schedule changing to ALL closing shifts. All while my father is in the hospital due to a pulmonary embolism. I ended up in the hospital because the spotting, now bleeding, was really starting to worry me. There was no cramping, no pain whatsoever, but I still wanted to make sure nothing wrong was going on. The doctor who checked me out diagnosed me with a Threatened Miscarriage. Her rules: stay off your feet for 72 hours. I handed in the doctors notes and hospital paperwork to my boss, and in return, handed me a register. That was my last day working at that grocery store.)
Life was good. I loved my growing belly and the little life growing inside my double womb.
(the baby was implanted in my left uterus).
I had a glowing face, no more acne, soft skin, tough nails, shiny hair, and THE BIGGEST appetite in the world. All I wanted was spicy, sour, tomato-y foods.
Of course being in New York City for two weeks during my second trimester was a treat. LITERALLY. As you know, New York is the place to be for food! All the food you could ever dream of. It is there.
I was there visiting my Mom, and she was kind enough to take me out to her favorite food spots. I had been to New York once when I was 12, but there's just something about the pregnant mouth that makes everything taste like MAGIC....there's that Magic again!
No. Food is not going to be what I consider to be Magic.
The second trimester of my pregnancy was, by far, the best and most life changing, thought provoking, time of my pregnancy. We found out the baby inside was going to be a boy! I was absolutely stoked beyond words and emotions.
The same day we found out is when I left with my Mom back to her home in The Big City, leaving poor M behind. Those two weeks were the longest weeks of my life. During those two weeks, everything I ever thought in life had changed. Transformed, really. I had big epiphanies, moments of sorrow, moments of bliss, moments of wonder and contemplation.
I wrote a meaningful letter to my mom and put it under her pillow for her to discover after I left.
When I came back, I felt like a changed human being. Like I was born again.
Not only did I feel like a new woman, but I could really feel this squirming baby boy inside me. Poking me back, hiccuping, kicking my guts, leaving his little hand prints inside my growing belly.
What a magical thing to experience.
I can't even begin to tell you what happens in a woman while she is growing life inside her. No, not hormonally, or body-wise. I'm talking, besides the stretching of her belly, and moving of insides and bones, about her mind. Her emotions. Her feelings, and yes feelings and emotions are two different things. But I can tell you that my whole outlook on life and death and the world, universe, and everything in between, ABSOLUTELY and COMPLETELY transformed. I was in a cocoon before. Hanging on the branch of a tree. seeing the world around me from the inside. A transparent film between me and the universe. And now, The cocoon was becoming less and less a cocoon, and more and more of what was really inside it! The Butterfly finally realized she was a Butterfly! And how amazing is She? I don't know what you call that.
Now it was getting very close to my 40th week of pregnancy. I was GIANT. Everyone asked me when my twins were coming out! HA! Twins. This is ALL me and my one baby boy, honey.
I gained 67 pounds. My belly's circumference was a good 47 inches.
My pregnancy went completely normal. No complications. I didn't even experience morning sickness! But it was all starting to HURT! My body had been taking to it's limits. It was not going to stretch any further. My belly itched worse than any mosquito bite ever did. My breasts leaked, when my baby boy kicked certain areas, jolts of what felt like thunder would shoot down my leg. My feet would hurt, and it hurt to get in and out of the car. And sleep? What sleep?
Let's just say, my body was done.
"If he doesn't turn face down within 2 weeks, I'm afraid we're going to have to have a c-section." My OBGYN told me. He didn't look hopeful.
A normal uterus is small as it is. 3 inches long to be exact!
When you have two, they will each be half the size to fit like a normal one does.
I was out of room, David, wasn't going to do anything. He sat in there with his arms crossed over his chest. He wanted out.
Driving to the hospital, which is literally only two minutes away from our house, is was about 4am (how ironic, right?) and it was still beautifully dark out. We stood outside of our car, the three of us, and I looked up at the stars. They were the most beautiful I had ever seen them before. Sparkling, shooting across the sky, staring down upon our eyes as if they were thinking the same thing.
(I forgot to mention that while I was pregnant. I saw shooting stars ALL the time. If that doesn't tell you something, I don't know what does.)
I was anxious, shaking, and it wasn't because I was cold.
I stared towards those squeaky, automatic sliding hospital doors. I was NOT going in there. I refused.
"Let's turn around. I wanna go home. David can wait." I said, opening the car door.
M laughed. "No he wont baby. Come on, it's time..."
The paperwork was all filled out, and there I was laying in our hospital room. My stomach was itching more than ever it seemed. I HAD to scratch it!
And waited 3 and a half hours.
"You ready?" My doc smiled at me.
"Um, no, not really. But what can I do, right?" I smiled back nervously.
And I was walked to pre-op.....the scariest room in the world.
Bright lights, cold air, too sterile. People with masks all around you staring at your giant belly.
The cold air smelled like chemicals. "Is this stuff actually safe to be around in?" I though to myself.
They helped me up on the tallest table you could ever ask a pregnant woman to get on.
"Hunch over like you want to be a big boulder, tuck your head down to your tummy, and sit as still as possible. If you feel a shooting pain go down your leg, STAY STILL, STAY CALM, and tell us which leg by saying simply 'right' or 'left'. You're going to feel some pressure right now."
"Don't worry, you can squeeze my hand, I'm here for you." My OBGYN told me softly. That was the comfort I needed.
I squeezed. They punctured.
"You're doing so great, you can do this." I loved my OBGYN at that moment.
"RIGHT!" I shouted.
"RIGHT!" I cried out again.
"RIIIIIGHT!" I screamed out.
What's funny is the actual needle going in my back didn't hurt. At all. What hurt were those horrible shooting pains shooting down my spine to my toes. Electricity.
They walked me over to the operation table as fast as they could before all feeling left my body.
It was gone. I couldn't feel a thing. From my neck down. "Was that normal?" I thought.
They told me to spread my legs so they could insert the catheter. I tried my best but my legs felt heavy as if the Earth itself was sitting on them.
They put the catheter in me. And then began the actually birth. (yes, c-section mothers gave birth).
"We're making the first incision." My OBGYN told me excitedly.
Where is my M??!!
And the next thing you know, he's right there next to me, holding my hand. Well, I was squeezing it. I was absolutely terrified. I couldn't feel anything, but at the same time, could feel EVERYTHING. No, not pain, but I could feel them rolling my insides around, pulling, tugging, stretching, I could feel my water run down my body when they broke it. It was HORRIBLE. I felt like a cadaver. And these doctors were harvesting my organs. And there was NOTHING I could do about it! I started to panic. The anesthesiologist (aka. Dr. Asshole), told me to calm down. CALM DOWN? FUCK YOU CALM DOWN! I'M HAVING A FUCKING BABY!" I shouted in my own head at him.
"I'm going to give you a sedative." Dr. Asshole told me.
And he did. And I calmed down, that's for sure.
"Alright, you're going to feel LOTS of tugging, pulling, and pressure, don't worry." OBGYN said.
Ha. These male doctors have NO idea.
And I felt it. THE worst part. I just tried to keep my eyes focus on M and kept telling him over and over how much I loved him. AND THEN......
(Continue for the third and final part of my journey!)