It's been an awful long time since I wrote about something of the personal nature. With this new beta thing on my blog, I've been busy trying to label all the 264 posts that I've put up. In going back over the year I realized just how much of me I had shared...up until all the crap with my family. Then I clammed up. Which is why I've been putting up so many news posts and others that don't really have any substance.
Funny how something can be ripped right out of a person when things like that occur.
Things have been running through my mind though...here's a couple.
I have a child born in each season. Unplanned, just occured to me when I was pregnant with our son. He was due in the winter. Our third child was born in the summer, our second in the spring and our first in the fall.
Or that the name of the doctor who delivered our son, was named Dr. Mericle.
I am superstitious and as I have pointed out many times, things happen for a reason, at least that's what I believe. In fact, for myself, both of these little facts hold some pretty substantial significance.
When I discovered I was pregnant with our boy, it was really a big surprise. BIG. We had only been discussing about 2 or 3 weeks earlier that we were done having kids. That our youngest would be entering kindergarten the next year and I could quit daycare. We were relishing in the fact that we were done with diapers, done with bottles and nuks, done with getting up every night, no more diaper bags, potty training or strollers. I remember the day well. We were sitting out in the backyard watching the kids play.
All that relishing came to a screeching halt when I went to the store and bought a pregnancy test and it was 'pink'. Oh, man, I cried on the way home. I was scared, I was happy, I was sad, I was so many things. And I had yet to tell Pat. "Oh geez, Pat, what was he going to say, oh man, he's going to be upset, he's going to yell at me"...as horomones go, mine were going crazy with horrible thoughts. Never before had I felt those types of feelings when I made this discovery.
If I recall, it took me a day or two to muster the courage to break the news. Normally, with the three girls I came running out of the bathroom with great delight and yelling, "Honey, were pregnant" but not this time.
Him and I were in the kitchen cutting up the Jack's Pepperoni Pizza for the kids and ourselves and I said, 'Um, honey, I have something to tell you but I don't know how you're going to take it'. He took a bite of his pizza and said, "What." with a look. With my heart racing, fighting the tears I blurted it out...'I'm pregnant'.
Silence, crunch from another bite and a sip of milk and he looked at me and said, "Ok, well, we'll deal with it, what else are we gonna do." I looked at him and said, "You're not mad?"
To that he said very calmly, "No, why would I be, what's done is done."
We of course talked things over, he hugged me and assured me that things would be ok and life went on. But I did have a very hard time with things...feelings mostly. As I said, the idea of being free of diapers and nuks and all that were a distant dream now but there was a part of me that was very bitter. I didn't want anymore babies but at the same time, I really wanted another one. Horomones are such a nasty thing.
All of my pregnancies with the girls were uneventful, easy, and quite enjoyable. But not this one. I was nauseous 24/7, everything hurt, I was in and out of urgent care for kidney issues. I felt all of this was my punishment for not wanting a baby and I deserved it!
Well, things progressed, the baby was growing, and I had to have my first ultra sound ever at 5 months. I had never had an ultra sound before, or the opportunity to decide whether or not we wanted to know the sex of the baby. So I was very excited.
But that bubble was quickly burst open when Pat and the kids and I went for what should have been something memorable and exciting. The technician was the rudest, nastiest person and Pat and I left there with our mouths hanging open. All our kids were there and were excited to see the baby in my tummy. This tech stood in front of the monitor, pointed nothing out to us, measured things, and when we asked if she could figure out if it was a boy or girl, she said, "No, I can't tell, the baby is on it's stomach". And when she said this, she had no intention of trying to find out, she was in the process of wiping the gel off of my stomach and putting things away. Just extremely impatient.
We were very disappointed by this and I did mention it to the physicians assistant a couple of times during my appointments but she did nothing.
A couple months later, I had to go to urgent care. I was having some horrible pains in my kidney area. I had to sit with the monitor on my stomach for 3 or 4 hours. I needed to have an ultra sound that night of course to make sure my kidneys were ok. And it was then that I found out about our little miracle.
What I thought was a nurse (coming to prepare me for the procedure,) came into the room and started asking me questions and telling me about the ultra sound and what they'll do. I asked her if possible, would they try to see if the baby was a boy or girl?
She looked at me and said, "They didn't tell you that?" sounding a little surprised. I told her what had happened and how sad we were to be treated so rudely and how we were really hoping for a better experience for ourselves as well as our girls.
She asked me a lot of questions and I mean ALOT. She wanted name, date of last one, time, etc. I couldn't figure it out until she was walking out of the room. She grabbed my arm and said, "I'm the head of radiaology, you should NOT have been treated like that, I am going to personally conduct your ultrasound and I will make it a day for your family to remember. We will schedule you for a full ultra sound on a day that your family can be here with you. And I am not going to charge your insurance for it either." and she winked at me.
I had no idea who I was speaking to, just thought it was a concerned nurse who would file a complaint for us and move on with other patients. I was stunned, felt bad because I spoke so openly to this woman about one of her staff but I did so without anger I might add, I blushed and I cried when she left.
As I said, I found out that night that my little boy was swimming around although I didn't believe it. We had three girls already, we were destined to parent girls! No way, not a boy, that just couldn't be!!!! I called Pat and told him the news and he too was in denial. While the radiologist was supposed to be checking my kidneys, she would stop and point this or that out to me .She seemed like she was enjoying every minute of it!!! Pointing our fingers and toes, eyes, nose. I was in awe because like I said, I had never had an ultra sound before, never seen one.
The head of radiology did not lie to us. She did everything she said she would and more. We came home with 5 or 6 pictures. And she was sure to include on of his 'balloon' as she called it. My poor boy, he will hate me forever with this post.
After we discovered that we were having a boy, or thought we were having a boy, I went to see my doc again. She read the file, saw that it was going to be a boy and I looked at her and said,"There's a reason that you're my doctor....you really do perform miracles". Ironically, her husband is the pastor who baptised our son.
In the end, I opted for drugs, some sort of spinal. I wound up puking my guts out while most enjoy the fact that they're in labor with no pain. I was SICK. I had never had any sort of pain medication during labor, never wanted it. This time around I didn't want to deal with the pain, I wanted to be the one who can hold a conversation while contractions were hitting an all time high and see what it was like. I figured this was my last child, I just had to experience it without pain one time.....I would never ever opt for the drugs again. I was so weak from being sick and tired from the drugs that I could barely raise my arms to hold my baby. I felt absolutely miserable!!!!
But our little boy was born and he was so dark that Pat asked if I was sure he was the father...he looked like a black baby. He was kidding of course...sense of humor of men during labor.
Now, as I sit here our son is tangled up in Christmas tree decorations arguing with his sister and to this day, I could kick myself for not wanting the little man who has become our miracle, the final season of my children.
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