So, here I am again, feeling crappy. Instead of calling my doctor, I decided to just go ahead and purchase a pregnancy test. Oh, before I go any further here are the other links to the previous installments, just in case you need some catching up. Part I, Part II, and Part III.
Continuing on…so I peed on the stick and before I even finished the line appeared. Oh boy, here we go again. This time, I decided to leave the stick on the bathroom counter for my husband to find when he came home. His first stop is always the downstairs half bath. As I sat upstairs on the bed, I hear him walk in the door. He goes into the bathroom as usual, then takes his time coming upstairs. He walks in, shows me the stick, and says, “What’s this?” I’m thinking, “Seriously, dude?” Anyway, I explain it to him and this smile comes on his face.
This time when I went to the gynecologist, all was well. My predicted due date was May 16th. I continued to feel crappy every day for my first trimester. I never vomited, only constant nausea when I ate or drank anything and I do mean anything. Smells made me even more nauseous so we had to remove all of the air fresheners in the house. The water tasted like raw sewage so I had to put almost an entire lemon in my water just to drink it. There were other issues that I had but I won’t go into that.
After the recommended time, we finally revealed to our families that I was pregnant. Since my sister Robin had been hounding me for years to get pregnant, I wanted to make sure that she was in on the announcement. I decided to do this while we were celebrating her birthday at our mom’s house. I got up and gave her a birthday card. As she read her card out loud, her voice started getting excited and high-pitched as she read that I was pregnant & that she had the honor of announcing it to everyone. She was ecstatic!
My pregnancy went without a hitch, for the most part. I did have some contractions at about 6 months or so because I became dehydrated. Not fun at all. I also had to go to my doctor because before I got pregnant, I had to have some uterine fibroids removed but the ones on the outside of my uterus weren’t. Well, just my luck that my son was pushing on one of the said fibroids and causing me tremendous pain. I was given Tylenol with codeine for the pain. Who knew? Fortunately, he moved after a day or so. I also had two other scares. Do you ever feel like you know too much? That’s how I felt while I was at work and realized that it had been hours since the last time I felt my baby move. Considering I had already had one miscarriage, my mind went to the worst-case scenario. My doctor had told me that if I felt something was wrong, no matter how big or small that I should come in and get it checked out. So, I did. Luckily there was nothing wrong. After I ate something and had something to drink, the movement resumed. The last scare was when I became dehydrated and caused premature contractions. That definitely wasn’t fun. From that point on, I made sure that I constantly had something to drink at my desk. Lesson learned.
Because I was 35/36 during my pregnancy, I was considered a high-risk pregnancy. My pregnancy was also considered a geriatric pregnancy. How offensive is that? With that came the requests for me to take all types of tests to make sure that my child wouldn’t have any genetic issues. The problem I had with these tests is that a positive test wasn’t conclusive, it just meant that I would need another test which could lead to yet another test. The final test would have been amniocentesis which has been known to cause miscarriages. Needless to say, all of that was a no. During one visit, one of the midwives or nurses asked me if I wanted to sign a waiver to say that I don’t want any of these tests and I almost jumped and hugged her as I said yes! I thought all was great until during one of the routine visits I was asked to give a blood sample. I thought it was weird but figured they needed it so I gave it to them.
Turns out that that test wasn’t a regular request. A few hours after my appointment, I received a call from my doctor’s office stating that the test I took had a positive result. I was so confused because I didn’t know what test she was talking about. When I hung up, I was still confused until a nurse from my doctor’s office called me. This was one of the nurses that I had known for years, she even came to my baby shower. Anyway, she told me that the nurse had ordered a test for me that I didn’t consent to and from what this nurse was telling me, this particular nurse had done that before to other black patients. I was angry but my nurse friend was livid. She reported the nurse to the doctor, after which the doctor called me to apologize and to let me know that I would not be charged for the test and that the nurse would no longer be on my case. To be honest, I never saw that nurse anywhere in the office when I went back for subsequent visits. For all I know, she could have been fired.
You know, I thought this would be the final chapter of my story but I still have so much to tell and it is already rather long as it is. My pregnancy story is a double-edged sword. I both loved and hated being pregnant. My first and third trimesters weren’t all that great, which is an understatement but my second trimester was wonderful. My cankles were the stuff of legend! Also, if I didn’t put shoes on in the morning, I wasn’t wearing any. What I did enjoy was the feeling of my baby moving inside me and the energy that I had. That’s also the time that my nausea finally disappeared. Even though my husband would look at me like a science experiment gone wrong whenever he saw the baby move, it was still a good time.
“Life is tough enough without having someone kick you from the inside.” ~ Rita Rudner