Three weeks after my 25th birthday I noticed I was late. You know the late I am talking… yeah, sister flow never showed up.
I took a pregnancy test and you guessed it… It was POSITIVE. We were ecstatic! And like truly over zealous first time would be parents, we scheduled an appointment with an OBGYN and were in her office the following Wednesday (Google said it was the first thing to do).
Yes, we took only one box pregnancy test… that was the only confirmation we needed.
I was barely four weeks, when I did my first ultrasound. All I saw was black and white while the technician pointed to a white dot and said, “Congratulations, that’s your baby.”
I feigned understanding, collected myself and headed home to celebrate the tiny human inside me. The week couldn’t run by fast enough, so we could sit down once more with the OBGYN to officially get the ball rolling.
I never truly felt pregnant until about 4 ½ months in my journey.
Yes I missed my period, and the at-home pregnancy test confirmed my suspicion, and and my doctor made it pretty darn clear, but to me, my pregnancy really started when my body began to change and I gleaned the small protrusion of my tummy.
In my first trimester, my stomach was my alarm clock. I vomited bile almost every morning before getting ready for work. The toilet bowl and I had a standing appointment. By the time I got to the office, I would feel like myself again until I got hungry. She (spoiler alert, it’s a girl!) was not pleased when she was hungry.
Though the morning sickness eventually stopped, I easily became nauseated throughout my pregnancy at the slightest whiff of ANY and EVERY THING. My stomach would churn and my gag reflex was almost always ready to react.
During my third trimester, we were counting down the days to her birthdate, my husband just out of excitement, and for me mainly a mixture of excitement and needing her to stop crushing my bladder as she was. I was peeing ALL THE TIME. I truly considered setting up a desk in the restroom at work because sis was wearing me out with the back and forth.
Speaking of bladder, that organ gave out on me a couple times on this journey… of course, when I was in public (because private betrayal was apparently not enough). I fully peed my pants in a supermarket parking lot one afternoon and almost peed my pants on our way home from work one evening, while giving a coworker a ride. Hubby had to find a corner for me to stoop outside and pee (yes, I said stoop, imagine stooping while pregnant… whew child that was something else!).
But despite these effects, my pregnancy was amazing to me. I am grateful to God for the experience.