The Beginning

One day, I began to feel sick. I distinctly remember throwing up and thinking, “Oh no. Please let this be the only time I throw up.” Ha! Good one universe. I was sick up until the first week of my second trimester. Some days better than others but always, always, always… sick. As a girl who gets sick so often that the school nurse is my pal, the throwing up was nothing out of the ordinary. Once I began to crave chicken, that’s when I knew something was up, I had been a vegetarian for two years, Chicken is not typically on my mind.

I asked my mom if I could be taken to the doctor after being sick for more than a week. The thought only crossed my mind once or twice that I could be pregnant, “Am I pregnant? This can’t be morning sickness it isn’t even morning! When was my last period? Well… who knows, it’s always been off.”

When I got to the doctor she asked the usual questions, she knew me well, I had been going to her since I was a baby. She asked me when my last period was. “I don’t know,” I said. She looks up,”You don’t know?” No.. I didn’t know. She had me go to the bathroom for a urine test. Before the results came back she named what I was tested for… stomach disease.. came back negative..virus.. negative.. pregnancy.. positive. I remember so clearly her walking into the room and saying, “Well.. you’re pregnant.”

Most of that memory is a haze. I remember seeing the doctors mouth move but I heard nothing. My mom began crying, I did too. I knew instantly I would be keeping my baby.

The doctor talked to me privately asking me the questions she was supposed to ask.

“Are you planning on keeping your baby?”

“Yes.”

“Are you feeling and suicidal or depressive thoughts?”

“No.”

She spoke to me for a while about what I would have to do and then she spoke privately to my mom.

I left that doctors office a new person. We made my OB/GYN appointment and I called Evan (my boyfriend) and asked him to come over. From that point on I talked to my tummy, always whispering loving words so my baby could grow healthy and happy.

Telling Evan and telling my other family members or friends was challenging. I told a few over the phone and I’ll leave out the details for those, Evan on the other hand, I told in person (of course). I started crying before I even talked to him. We both sat down and he said, “Baby, what’s wrong?” as he wiped away my tears. I told him, “Remember how I went to the doctor cause I’ve been sick?” He said yes, “well… I’m pregnant.” I broke down. So many thoughts went through my head, will he leave me? will he still love me? will he be mad? will he be a good father? (Flash-forward: He’s an amazing father).

He hugged me and told me not to cry, he said that a baby is not a bad thing and that yes, it will be hard but we are a family now. Instantly I felt better. I knew he was worried and stressing, as was I. But all that mattered was that we had each other.

My first trimester was a challenge. I threw up 5 or more times daily for weeks. When I found out I was pregnant I was 7 weeks along. I got my first ultrasound at 10 weeks. My second trimester was easier, but challenging because I was still in school. My third trimester was also tough. Back ache, impatience, the inability to breathe when walking three steps. I had contractions for weeks before I actually gave birth. For those of you who don’t know what a contraction feels like; it’s like your insides are tightening as much as possible and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to release the tension and pain. I was expecting to have Carter early but I ended up having him 5 days after his due date. Imagine that.

There are so many things that I can elaborate on but this post is already 740 words. I will write my next couple of posts about discovering Carter’s gender, the baby shower, the delivery, and all that has come after.

To conclude… At 10 weeks along I laid on the ultrasound table and saw my little baby kicking and wiggling around. 10 weeks along. To be true to myself I have to tell you that I am not a deeply religious person, although I am a firm believer in fate and in miracles.

My baby Carter is an absolute miracle. Yes, I am young. Yes, it has been the most challenging thing I have ever experienced. But I would change nothing. Carter is meant to be here, and I am meant to love him. And I do. More than anything.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. Vanessa says:

    Reading your journey is amazing!

    Like

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