Friday, April 12, 2013

Shall We Celebrate? Let's Drink Crown and Coke, you Losers

All right. So now that I've cleared that up, let's get on with it, shall we?

It's the week between Christmas and New Year, 2010, and I am actually, still pregnant, and still surprised about it. B (my best frand in the world) was having a New Year's party - and I knew I wouldn't be able to hide it from her. 

I tried anyway. 

I tried to use D as my beard. We both got Sonic cups and I BEGGED him to put a little Crown in his - so I could play the Sober Chauffeur (funny, pulling out an old Soybean City trick circa 2002). He wouldn't! He full wouldn't. What a jerk. Sooo, we both walk in, with our Sonic cups. Of soda. 

She immediately takes the drink from my hand, and takes a sip - gives me a look, and gives me a hug. How did she know? She knew we had no plans, how did she know? She knew because she's my best frand and she lurves me. I lurve her, too.

Anyway, as I'm sure you can imagine, this was the most boring party I've ever been to. A bunch of drunky drunks playing tip-cup and playing the guitar. We left as soon as it was acceptable. That'd be 12:10.

She and I didn't talk about it again until I was well into my second trimester. She knew I was scared. She knew I was out of my mind terrified It would happen again. 

There was one person I couldn't stop from telling, it was my cube-mate and work-best-friend, RJ. (Do you put people in compartments like I do? Like a work-best-friend, a best-best-friend, a best-friend from high school, a best-friend from college? .....Non?) I broke down and told her, because well, around 10-ish weeks, I was starting to get a little optimistic. That MAYBE, this was actually happening - that it might end up like pregnancies are SUPPOSED to end up. You know, with a baby? RJ was so pumped, and I've got to tell you, she was there for me like few others were. 

Did I mention that D got me a "Congratulations You're Out of the First Trimester" gift? It was a Vera Bradley diaper bag. He's a dolly. Did I mention it was also from eBay? Thoughtful AND thrifty. I like him. 

He and I decided to start telling our family around the end of February. Why? So we could buy a cheesy "Happy Birthday, Grandpa" card for my Dad, and put a picture of the ultrasound in it. It was kind of awkward, really. Dad and Mom were sitting together on the sofa as he opened his card. Mom "got it" right away and began to cry. Dad said, (ready?) "Is this old?" Yes, Dad. I'm giving you a picture of the baby I'm no longer carrying. As a birthday present. Happy birthday. -_-  Once we got him up to speed, there was joy, tears, happiness and what-have-you. As first time grandparents being told for the second time - they were way more excited than I anticipated.

D's parents (old pros at these things by now - this would be their tenth grandchild) accepted the news with a smile and a nod. I've got nothing witty to say. A good lesson I learned long ago is that if I haven't anything nice to say, I'll sit next to my girlfriends and whisper about it instead. 

Food baby? No! That's Lil' Francis! And my crazy-short hair. I won't ever show you what it looked like before, I swear it.
Don't worry, I'm aware that this photo says 19 weeks. Whatev. I look full terrible in the 20 week photo. You'll never see that, either. Do you like my mantel scape?

Last but not least, we went "Facebook official" an awkwardly late twenty weeks. Why so late? Because I was still terrified. To tell the Facebook world is to tell everyone. And to un-tell everyone? So hard. 

Saturday, April 6, 2013

The Baby That Wasn't

May I be frank with you?

I realized that my last post may have been too vague. I tried to dance around what actually happened - but that's the whole problem - it's not something that deserves to be danced around. So let's back this train up again and start over at the real beginning.

I miscarried my first child in November 2010.

To say D and I are not planners is an understatement. I think the main reason we went from co-habitation to married was (and this is a direct quote) "The engagement ring you like isn't as nearly as expensive as I thought it would be." (Did I also mention D is a huge romantic? I'm just surprised the ring didn't come from eBay.) So when we found out I was expecting - our world tilted onto its side. Day was night, inside was outside, and cats were dogs. I mean -- we knew how it happened....but how did this happen??? Were we ready to be parents? Where are we going to put this kid in our house, the office or the guest bedroom or the VIDEO GAME ROOM? Should we move to a better school district? Should we move *GULP* back to Soybean City?? 

I started a journal to that baby. I still have the first (and only) entry. I read it now and am still astonished at how instantaneously elated I was. Reading it now, I hear no trepidation in my words to that baby. I was ready.

So get this: We were finally starting to imagine ourselves as real parents - you know - the people who DON'T go to Target at 2AM just because they can - I started to have this weird crampy feeling. Of course, I googled (trust - never Google) and I knew, knew in my heart of hearts, what was happening. I called my doctor's office, and they brushed me off, telling me it could be completely normal (I of course, zoomed in on their choice of the word "could") Cue the bleeding. You don't need me to go in to details. Trust, you don't. So the office had me come in. Remember the hoe-bag nurse? Yeah. She couldn't find the heartbeat. She assured me that "could be totally normal - you're still very early and the baby's very small" (there's that could word again) So she sent me down the hall for an ultrasound. This little gal was much sweeter, but wouldn't say a single thing, except "You're going to be fine. You're going to be just fine!" (weirdly assuring....but we could still go either way here). They took a little blood, and sent me on my way. 

I full broke down in the parking lot. like FULL broke down. Ugly cry, sobbing, snotty mess. I am SURE I scared the hell out of every pregnant woman walking in or out of that office. I tried calling D 12389751765402 times, although I knew perfectly well his phone is sitting in his car. So, I call my mother - who didn't even know I was pregnant - to tell her I'm UN-pregnant. Neat. She said she's coming up that night.

It was the middle of the day (and I'd taken the week off for my birthday week - because that's what married un-childrened couples do with their vacation time - right?) so I awkwardly go home and sit on the sofa to wait for D and my mom. The doctor's office told me to come back in two days to draw blood again. I knew what they'd find. 

I still remember - while I was waiting for D and my mom, I watched that Roller Derby movie with that chick from Juno, and Up. About every ten minutes, my brain would circle around the phrase "you are having a miscarriage right now." It was so farking surreal - it was like a joke. To go from children NOT on the radar, to becoming parents, to NOT becoming parents in the span of, what, 6, 7 days? Super weird. That, and "what a great birthday present" was the other thought that kept running through my head. Also weird.

Now, I'll spare you the details, because it's obvious how that ended (just as I knew it would as soon as Dr. Google told me so). D got me a July birthstone necklace to commemorate that baby. I wore it every day for a very long time, well into my pregnancy with Francis (more on THAT later). 

People can say what they want about a miscarriage (you know - the facts - blah blah 25% of all pregnancies blah blah, you were only just a little blah blah, everything happens for a blah blah) but to say that I only have one child is just a lie. N's got the best guardian angel  she could ever ask for - and even if things hadn't have happened the way they did we wouldn't even HAVE her - I still think about it every day. It's a part of who I am and has shaped me in to the person I am today. So that's pretty neat.

Just thought I'd clear that up. 

Friday, April 5, 2013

And So It Begins

Let me set the scene:

It's the week between Christmas and New Year's, 2010 and I'm fluttering about the house, with a positive pregnancy test in my back pocket. I can't sit still, because if I do, I'm certain I'll do one of a number of things:
1) Hyperventilate
2) Bubble over in slightly psychotic giggles - which doing so by myself would be even weirder, no?
3) Cry? Which would be the worst of the three - I think I've cried more in the past month than I have in my entire life

I called my earthy (currently pregnant herself) sister-in-law, who seems to know a lot about everything (bless her heart, she's my favorite) and blurted the news, "I just got a positive, it's not just leftovers, is it?" (imagine that in all one breath - with an I'mAboutToLoseMyMind undertone)
E calmly responds, "I'm sure that it's not just leftovers. Let me call a friend and find out for sure."

So I've got my phone as loud as it'll go (like I'm so busy doing 2304716 other things and may not hear it), waiting for E to call me back, when in walks my sweet, darling of a husband, D. He was home early from work - which never happened. It was like he knew I had something I needed (but didn't want) to tell him. I hadn't yet heard back from E, so I had no idea weather to show him the test - or just throw it away. 

Of course I shove the test under his nose like he's a near-sighted 90 year old, with the same rushed phrase I'd shared with E, "I took this just now but who knows if it's real or if it's leftovers." I took a breath and blew it out, "I should probably just throw it out."

D, being ever so practical, says not to throw it out - just put it away, and (duh) call the doctor. (How had this not yet occurred to me?)

So I did. And they rushed me in like I was actually pregnant. Took my blood (I was a pro by now, it seems like I'd been doing this twice a week for ever), and told me to come back in two days - they'd do it again. (to make sure the numbers are going up -- not down)

So I did. They said they'd call right away. Right away ended up being a few hours later. My cell rings, and it's the nurse I like (not the hoe-bag who wouldn't man-up and call me with the bad news I knew she had), and she's so excited - "Your numbers have doubled!" My brain knows what that means, but my heart knows it's no guarantee. I felt so proud, and have never been more scared in my entire life.

And that, my friends, is the first step in the long journey that landed me from my City Dreams to Soybeans.