When I found out I was pregnant, I couldn't have been happier, but unbeknownst to me, it was the first sign that I was in trouble. I guess you could say I kind of knew from the beginning that I was pregnant, because I had a gut feeling that something was up, so I picked up a pregnancy test. When that came up negative, I thought, Ok maybe I'm just exhausted because I'm switching back to day shift. Fast forward a week and I realized I was a few days late for my period. Ok. I'll pick up another test. Four more tests later, still negative. What the heck is going on? Almost two weeks late and I come home with a twix candy bar for me and some other candy bar for my husband. Bite into the twix and YUCK! immediately spit it back out. Ok. Something is definitely up! Time to call the doctor. I explain to the doctor that I am two weeks late, but every home test I've taken has come up negative, but I either have to be pregnant or dying. (Just kidding about the dying part... although with as exhausted as I was, it wasn't that far off) I got a blood test done and finally got a positive. This should have been the first indication that I would have a strong willed child.
Fast forward to October 19th. My first doctors appointment. (South Dakota doctors are so weird. They won't even see you until you're 8 weeks pregnant.) I go in so excited because today I get to hear my baby's heartbeat! Or not. The doctor says that she's just going run some tests that require her to drain me of about six vials of blood (as if I wasn't exhausted enough) and stick me with a needle full of the dead influenza virus. Awesome.
Fast forward a month. I get to the doctor and step on the scale. Instead of gaining weight like a normal pregnant woman, I have lost ten pounds. Figures that when I'm supposed to be gaining weight, I lose it but when I'm trying to lose weight, I gain. I guess I've always been a little backwards. Finally I get to go back and hear my baby's heartbeat. I record it to send to my family on the other side of the country.
Fast forward to December 17th. It is finally time for my first ultrasound! I will be able to find out if my baby is a boy or girl! I go into the appointment and find out that my afp test (one of the ones that required blood) came back a little high, which meant that there was a chance of spina bifida, but they couldn't tell me, I'd have to go to a specialist. Here comes the ftm worry. The ultrasound technician comes in finally after about 30 minutes. He then spends an hour trying to pin my child so that he can get measurements. The baby is not cooperating... uh oh. I'm in trouble. Yep. This was that moment. My child was being stubborn in utero. Little did I know this was just the beginning. After an hour I start to get impatient. Just tell me the sex of the baby already! Finally I hear him say, I'm not sure of that's an umbilical cord or if it's a turtle. Let me see if I can get a better view. I'm thinking oh its probably the umbilical cord. I'm almost positive its a gi..... that's definitely a turtle! It's a boy! Wait what? A boy? Hubby is over in the corner doing a happy dance. A boy... oh boy... I'm really in trouble!
Fast forward. My big pregnant butt moved back to North Carolina. South Dakota is way too cold for this beach bunny. Which means all new doctors that want to poke me with needles. It also means I finally get to go see that specialist. First visit to the regular doctor. They check the heartbeat. My son decides that he doesn't want to be checked and kicks the Doppler so hard it surprised the doctor. Then I get this comment for the first and definitely not the last time, you've got a strong and opinionated little man there! Good luck with that one! Crap. I really am in trouble. We go to the specialist and once again my son needs to be pinned so they can get a good look. He looks just like his daddy. Good news, no spina bifida. Bad news, I was classified technical high risk. I have to go back once a month.
Fast forward two months. My son is now determined that my ribs belong on the other side of the room. Can you say ouch? But his growth is on track, so we are released from the specialist! Yay!
Fast forward to May 16th. I go to the hospital at 8 pm. Labor can't decide whether it wants to start or not, so they start trying to help me dilate. Active labor starts at 12:00 am on Friday the 17th with the help of pitocin. At 8:30 am on Saturday May 18th, I finally gave in and got an epidural having been given the option to either have it so I could rest and push or have a c section. Stubborn child, get out of my body. Mom has to leave. I've been at 5 cm dilation for 6 hours or so with no sign of progressing. I close my eyes to rest. Wake up, there is a strange pressure. I have the doctor check. Wow. Within a space of a few hours, I have gone from 5 cm to 9. Hubby go call mom now! I'm surprised cops weren't following her. The nurses keep telling me to stop pushing and wait for the doctor... I'm not doing anything! Mom gets back. At 1:52 pm I welcome my son into the world. They hand him to me and he poops on me. I guess I got broken in early. I have him for a few minutes and then they take him to clean, weigh and measure him. The nurse is holding him up with her hand under his chest. He arches his back and holds himself rigid for 30 full seconds. Not even an hour old. Nurse turns around and says YOU ARE IN TROUBLE WITH THIS ONE. Ok.... time to start a blog.
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