On April 26th, 2008 I discovered I was pregnant. Surprise! That was a Holy Shit moment. Forgive my use of ugly words. I will deposit a quarter in the Ugly Word jar shortly. So started the first day of the rest of my life. No more adult drinks for me!
Over the next seven months and 22 days I was Pregnant Beth. No sushi, no drinking, no coffee…It was horrible. Actually, it wasn’t all that bad. Minus heart burn bad enough to strip paint, having to pee 1,000 times a day…But no, really, it wasn’t that bad. Feeling a tiny person wiggle around inside my belly was wonderful (except when she wiggled her feet into my ribs). Setting up a nursery, taking belly pictures, I was told I was glowing even. All in all, a good experience.
On December 16th, I felt kinda funky. I left work an hour early after telling my boss I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Drove home, had two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (hey, I was pregnant, I could get away with stuff like that) and some pasta salad. Had insane urges to clean things and was super short tempered. A while later, I started to suspect that potato salad had been past its prime. Definately feeling funky. I was chatting with some ladies who were also pregnant or due any day, and the consensus was that I was in labor. Pshaw! Me, in labor? No way. So started the pacing and bouncing on the yoga ball. Whatever this stomach thing I had gotten was kicking my ass (yep, I owe .50 to the Ugly Word jar). All this time Jake is blissfully sleeping in the other room (he was flu-ish). Eventually it occured to me that I might be in labor, and if so, I had been for about seven hours. Rut roh Shaggy. So I went to wake up Jake, but right as I was walking to the bed, I had a contraction. So I grabbed his feet, causing him to go from a dead sleep to a man of action in about a half a second. At this point the power of conversation had escaped me, but I was able to communicate to him that I wanted a shower. NOW! I think my head may have spun around at this point, and there may have been some spewing pea soup action. So he ran me a shower, and grabbed my (thankfully already packed) hospital bag. By 2:30 AM we were on the road. I couldn’t sit, so I rode on my knees with my bum towards the window grabbing Jake’s arm. Passed at least three cars that really should have cared that we are driving about 90 MPH but no problems there.
At the hospital it was a classic movie scene. Jake pulled up and ran in to get a wheelchair. The ER nurse takes one look at me and grabbed the handles and started running and yelling at people to get out of our way. She was telling me not to push. Yeah right. I’d been ‘not pushing’ since before we left the house. They got me to OB triage and on a bed. One look at the business end of things had me flat on my back rolling through the halls with the nurse yelling all kinds of stats that to my mind sound like I’m going to have a baby NOW. Sparing the gory details, Adeline Melissa was born about 10 minutes after we arrived at the hospital. Drug free I might add.
Once Jake has determined she has ten fingers and 10 toes and that I’m in good shape, he goes to move the car from the ER entrance. They kindly didn’t have it towed, but I doubt there would have been time anyway.
1)less than 10 days from your due date+stomach pain does not equal food poisoning.
2)I inherited my family’s quick and easy labor/delivery genes
Less than 36 hours later, we got home. They gave me a packet of brightly colored papers that supposedly had instructions and sent us on our merry way. The only things they wanted to know were did we have running water and a car seat. No one asked if we knew how to raise a kid. We must have looked really competent.
So it started. Now I’m someone’s mom. Just when I had gotten used to being Pregnant Beth, it all ended and I became The Mama Beth. Terrifying.