Some people are totally for hearing about other’s pregnancy experience and birth story while others aren’t.
If you’re someone who isn’t, I wouldn’t read this post. It’s about to get super preggo.
Where to begin?
Around the 4 week mark of being pregnant, I had taken a pregnancy test. I hadn’t gotten my period but wasn’t too nervous yet because it had only been a couple of days. The test came back negative.
What do ya know! A negative test, I’m good.
2 more weeks had passed by, still no period. But what did I have? Emotions on top of emotions! And waaaaay bigger boobs. It had then hit me. Something was up.
After getting home from Sam’s house, I took another test. Thinking, “there’s no way… something else has to be going on”.
I was wrong.
Two lines were on the test and tears were running down my eyes.
I was scared. I’ll openly admit that it wasn’t what I had planned for myself. But I knew that abortion was something that had never crossed my mind. I knew I was going to keep the baby and do whatever I could to make it work.
Here’s the part where I need to give my Sam a huge shout out. I was not an easy pregnant woman to deal with the first few months. Every pregnant woman knows that the first trimester is filled with emotions. Your body isn’t used to all the hormones required to make a baby and I’ll openly admit, I was a nightmare because of them.
I cried a couple of times a day over the littlest things. One minute I’d be happy the next I’d be crying, calling Sam to calm me down. It didn’t help that we hadn’t lived together yet, there were so many unanswered questions and situations we had to figure out. Jobs, income, schooling, where we’d live, child care… and some of those things we are still figuring out. But he was always there to remind me that we’re a team, this is something we’re going to figure out together and that’s what kept me going.
Fast forward to September, I had started a new job. Sam was leaving for Croatia for the National Guard. It had been hard, he was gone for a month and I wasn’t able to talk to him. But the thought that I’d be living with the love of my life after that month was over kept me positive.
Apparently I was too positive and needed a reality check. Life laid the smack down on me and I was diagnosed with a blood clot. That’s a whole other story that I’d have to write about in a different post. But long story short: I’d have to give myself 2 shots a day, 1 in the morning and 1 before bed time in my tummy.
“As if pregnancy isn’t hard enough, now I have to poke myself twice a day?” I thought.
It seemed unfair. I had been doing my best to make my pregnancy enjoyable and I was shot down.
What I did to make the shot giving easier? I guess I sort of sucked it up. I knew that the risk could be determential if I didn’t. And I wanted to have the best possible outcome for Finley and I.
Needless to say, it was a very draining pregnancy but I’d give myself shots for the rest of my life 20 times a day if it meant getting my little bundle of joy.
Pregnancies are always different. One woman may have nausea, the other may wake up feeling great. One woman may have so much energy and dress cute each and everyday while the other (like me) will only be seen in sweatpants for 9 months.
But in some way, shape or form, they’re difficult for every woman. If you’re pregnant or have been pregnant, you’re awesome for getting through the day to day struggles, whichever they may be. Keep on being just as strong.