My Journey to Parenthood

Okay, so I have thought long and hard about whether or not I wanted to do this post. It is a personal topic and a tough one for me to talk about sometimes. However…I have decided that I may feel better if I tell my story and let it out.

I know this is a bit lengthy and it was rather difficult for me to write. There were times during this post that I was laughing, crying, and sometimes that I just sat here in disbelief that we were able to make it through all of this.

This is my story of how I became known as this new and wonderful person: Mommy.
My husband and I have been together for ten years now. We were high school sweethearts and I knew that he was perfect for me not long after I met him. Unlike a lot of high school students we actually did take the time to talk about our interests, our plans for the future, and whether or not our plans could fit together. Luckily for us, they did.

My senior year of high school he proposed to me and I just couldn’t be happier! I had been a little curious as to why my boyfriend who worked more than I did all of a sudden couldn’t afford to pay for anything and kept asking me to cover it! Come to find out he had been making payments on my ring for a while! Yay me!

After talking about it, we decided that we wanted to wait until we were both out of college to get married. The years ticked by and we stayed just as happy and as in love as we had always been! We started making plans and talking about the family we wanted to have together. We both wanted children…just not right away..we wanted to enjoy each other a little bit longer.

My senior year of college we decided to go ahead and set the date for December 18 (the exact same day he proposed 4 years earlier). I would be student teaching after the wedding but not technically in school, so it was close enough for me!

Two weeks before our wedding I had a doctors appointment. Just a normal yearly check up not a big deal…or so I thought. Well, from that simple appointment I got news that crushed me…news I just didn’t know how to share with my soon to be husband. The doctor told me that I had something called Endometriosis and a lot of scar tissue which would make my having children next to impossible. He gave me some advice on what I could to to help my odds and talked to me about options. The endometriosis explained a lot of symptoms and problems I had had most of my adult life…so of course there was some relief in knowing what was going on with my body.

That night, I went out with some friends and tried to calm myself. I had to figure out how to tell the man I was supposed to marry, the man that kept telling me he wanted to have a family with me…that I probably wasn’t going to be able to give him that family. How do you do that?!? I was so scared. Finally one of my guy friends sat down with me and told me that with as much as everyone knew we loved each other…we would find a way past this problem. We had options. Our plans may have to change some, however, he knew that my husband would stand by me no matter what.

Of course he was right. When I sat down crying and telling my husband what was going on he held me and helped me through it. He told me that it didn’t matter. He said that there were a lot of children out there without parents and that we would just have to change the type of family we had, that just because a child wasn’t conceived by us didn’t make it any less ours. I will never forget his words that day. I was so happy and couldn’t wait for our wedding day. I knew that this man was going to be there for me no matter what came up in our lives. We may have arguments, I mean come on what couple doesn’t, but we would work through it.

Our wedding day was the most wonderful day of my life. Even though it was far from what most girls would expect. We paid for it ourselves, set things up ourselves, and even cleaned up the day after. We couldn’t afford a honeymoon so we through a huge party at our house where family and friends spent time around a bon fire and had a good ol’ time.

For the next few months I continued to take my medicine (stopped taking birth control because the doctor told me it would take my body a while to get over taking it) and enjoy my life as a wife. We hadn’t even really spoken about starting our family again. We both knew that it would be tough for us and that adoption is far from cheap. So it just kind of sat on a back burner for a later time.

Around 6 months later I found myself feeling pretty awful. I was sick all the time, had headaches, and OH MY GOD DID MY BOOBS HURT!! I mean really what in the world was going on with me! It took me a bit to realize that my period was late…I had never really had a regular one. Well, although I’m sure most of you have guessed it by now…I had no clue! I couldn’t get pregnant! The doctor had just told me this a few months back!

So I did what any girl would do in my situation…I called my mom, who had started playing a big part in my life again at this point. She of course told me that it was wishful thinking. We all knew what the doctor had said…the odds were against me. She even reminded me that some women show all the signs of pregnancy if they want it bad enough and get it into their heads. Well, her solution was (mind you my mom wasn’t the typical mom growing up…I haven’t really talked about her much and I honestly probably wont talk about my childhood much) what I expected it to be. Let’s have a girls night at the bar. I could drink away the stress and forget all about it.

We went out that night..I can even tell you the exact date!! August 9th…you will understand how I know this in a bit. I got extremely drunk…so drunk that I am honestly a bit ashamed…I can remember walking around with a pitcher, yes a pitcher not a cup (we figured out it was cheaper), of Alabama Slammer and a straw. After that night I went home and let it all go. I went to the store that Sunday, the 10th, and decided that I felt so bad I was buying a pregnancy test. I would prove to myself once and for all that I was NOT pregnant. I still hadn’t really told my husband that I thought I was.

I had been told that it was best to take a pregnancy test first thing in the morning, not really sure why, but I went with it. I barely slept that night. I remember crawling out of bed around 4am and thinking…well it has been long enough. I went to the bathroom outside of our bedroom and took out the test. I have always heard that once you pee on the stick it takes at least 3 minutes to get a result. Yeah well, as soon as I finished I went to put the cap on it and glanced at the screen. I even bought one of the expensive ones with the digital read out (just to be safe). Sure enough right there in big capital letters was the one word I was scared to see…


Holy crap! I took a second one just to be sure…and yep there it was again. I carefully, well as carefully as my shaky hands could manage, sat both tests on the back of the toilet and walked into our bedroom. I nudged my husband who looked at me. I couldn’t speak…I just grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom where I proceeded to be a genius and simply pointed at the tests. When he looked at me I had tears in my eyes as words finally came to me…

“Happy birthday honey…I’m pregnant!”

We were nervous of course and set up a doctors appointment right away. While the pregnancy was a difficult one filled with lots of worry that I would lose the baby at any time…it was the best feeling in the world. Knowing that I had a life inside of me…it kicked me and rolled around…and made me sick even had me pee a little when I laughed or sneezed. Which I have to say was and is the most embarrassing part of pregnancy!

We had decided that we didn’t want to know the sex of the baby. That is until we went to the ultrasound and she was spread eagle on the screen! There was no doubt what we were having and we couldn’t have been happier.

All things considered it was a good pregnancy. I worked up until the week before I had her, technically I had been on bed rest for a bit but the doctor let me work as long as I sat down all day. Emalee came just under 2 months early and was a perfectly healthy baby girl.

Once we were home we started our lives as parents. A role we weren’t sure we would ever get to play. The next 3 years flew by a lot faster than I ever thought possible. We decided that we wanted to try again. We had always said if we could have kids we wanted two…so now that Emalee was fully potty trained (I so wasn’t buying diapers for two at one time!) we started to try for baby number two.

This time didn’t go as well as the first. Although it never got to a point that I saw a doctor within 6 months I had two miscarriages. We never talk about them…most of my family didn’t even really know…well the ones that read this do now. We were determined to have a baby so we kept trying. Finally in June I was pretty sure I was pregnant. I was really late and a home test said yes.

June 24 I got into a car accident. The truck in front of me stopped, I stopped, the car behind me didn’t even slow down. It hit hard! Emalee was in the car with me and I was freaking out. She was screaming and crying so as soon as I knew it was safe to get out I ran to her side and got her out. I sat on the sidewalk crying and rocking my baby while I waited on the cops and EMS to show up. It didn’t take long, we were in the middle of town. I insisted that I was fine and made the guys check out Ema instead. I refused to let them look at me. I just didn’t care.

Luckily, Ema’s car seat did exactly what it was supposed to do and she was absolutely fine. She was crying because she spilled her chocolate milk and thought I would be mad about it. My sweet girl. My husbands grandpa came to help me get things settled. I had never been in a wreck and had no clue what to do. While he took Ema to grandma the cops and EMT’s came to check on me and get me to sign the paper work saying I didn’t want to be seen. At this point they were all pretty concerned about me seeing as I was dizzy and felt sick. It didn’t help matters when I couldn’t remember how to sign my name. But I still refused. All I wanted was to get home and hold my baby girl.

When grandpa got back he decided I needed to go to the ER so off we went. By the time I was taken back my husband was back in town and by my side. When the nurse came in to get me checked in she asked the usual round of questions. When she got to the “are you or do you think you could be pregnant”. My hand immediately went to my belly…OH NO! The baby!! I hand’t even thought of that…I was so worried about Ema and wasn’t used to the idea of another baby yet. I told her that I was pretty sure that I was pregnant and she did the blood work and such.

She came back with a sad but determined look on her face and told me that the tests were all negative. I was not pregnant. At this point I was devastated…I looked at my husband and we both decided then and there we were done trying. We couldn’t handle the disappointment anymore. So they did all of their x-rays and gave me some crazy medicine that knocked me out from Friday afternoon til Monday.

We went on with our lives as normal. Going to work, playing with Ema, things were back to what we expected them to be. However, my period never came. I stayed sick and started losing weight because of it. About 3 weeks later I decided I was taking another test and guess what? It said I was still pregnant!

Very confused I made an appointment to see the doctor. I was worried. If I had been pregnant during the wreck and during all of the x-rays and medicine that they gave me…what would it mean for my baby? Would it be okay? Could I keep it? I wasn’t sure I could handle losing another baby. I wanted one so very badly.

I went to the doctor and low and behold…an ultrasound showed a perfectly normal and healthy baby growing in me. They were concerned with my weight loss so they put me on some medicine to help and slowly but surely I started to gain weight and look like a normal pregnant woman. I thought things were looking up.

I was in the hospital for the first time in August…I was less that 3 months pregnant and already having a ton of issues. Had we thought my first pregnancy was scary and difficult? We had no idea what a difficult pregnancy was until now. I could barely eat, I was in almost constant pain, and the baby tried to come on several occasions. I had my first shot to stop my labor around Thanksgiving and was put on bed rest at that point. Just before Christmas I had to have another shot. Before I would finally have my baby I was in and out of the hospital a total of 8 times. It was scary, but I was determined to do whatever it took to get this baby to stay in and be healthy.

I spent the last 5 months of my pregnancy on full bed and pelvic rest. I literally didn’t move unless it was to go to the bathroom. My husband would sit snacks and drinks next to the bed when he left for work so I didn’t have to move. Between him and Ema I was very well taken care of.

Ema was very excited about having a baby sister. As the time grew nearer and I passed the 34 week mark I finally relaxed. She could come any time she wanted to now and she should be okay. Well, my little stubborn  bugger decided that if we didn’t want her to come earlier then why would we want her now? She kept stalling…I dilated and had contractions for four days before the doctor finally said that if I hadn’t gone into labor on my own he would induce me, so long as I had progressed a little.  Well, the day came and I hadn’t changed enough so they sent me home.

I was miserable! I had been in all out labor for five days at this point and I wanted pain meds! We came home, sent Ema to the babysitter we had set up and did everything the doctor had told me not to do earlier in the pregnancy. I was determined to have this baby! Ema called around 10pm wanting to come home, she had never had a sleep over at a friends house before. My husband went and got her and she laid down in bed with me. Once she was asleep he moved her to her own bed (we don’t let her sleep with us very often) and I decided that yet again I needed to potty. When I went I found that I was bleeding and decided it was time to go to the hospital. We called the sitter, who came to our house, and off we went.

My progress was slow all night long, so when the nurses checked around 7:30 am and told me I was only 7cm I figured I had a few more hours at least. Next thing I know the doctor comes in to check me before he goes to the office for the day and tells the nurses to get the room ready! I started pushing at 8:15 and she was born at 8:18! It was the quickest and easiest delivery I could have imagined. Guess she was trying to make up for the 5 days of labor and all the other trouble during the pregnancy.

Due to some issues with staffing Anna got to stay in the room with me all but 30 minutes of our hospital stay. They even came into my delivery room to do her measurements and first bath. I loved it! Because Ema was premature they took her away from me immediately…but with Anna they laid her on my chest as soon as she was out and I swear I don’t remember any of the pain from the rest of the labor.

Yeah what a lot of women don’t realize when they have a baby is that once the baby is out they have to push and prod on you in order to get out all the other stuff and then “massage” your tummy to get your uterus to contract. Let me just say…THIS HURTS!

Holding Anna in my arms I didn’t feel a thing. All I knew was that my little family was now complete!

When I was finally able to hold both of my girls in my arms I knew that my life would never be the same and that no matter how much I whine, rant, vent, feel overwhelmed, or complain (which we moms do all of these things from time to time) I would never trade my new life for anything. My girls are my world and when you add my husband into that I simply couldn’t ask for more!

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