Pregnant and hating it

FYI-just to get caught up on the events of deciding to have a child to now, I am going to document past events till current and on.

I found out I was pregnant on Sept. 18, 2011. I had returned from a weekend trip to my home town where I was celebrating the town's festivities with family and friends. I knew I could be pregnant because that was the goal. I just kept thinking that it hadn't happened yet so it probably wasn't so now. Finally, late that Sunday night I decided to take the test I had taken every month for a few months now. By now I didn't expect much because for some reason I thought I would get pregnant the first month of trying. When the lines turned it looked like it was indicating I was pregnant but I thought the lines were too faint and wouldn't accept the results. I took the test down stairs to my husband and asked what he thought it was indicating. He, almost without any emotion, replied, "it looks like you are pregnant." Even still I would not accept it. I made my husband go to the store and buy a test that would spell out P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T. I took that test and sure enough it spelled it out for me. Now, this is usually where people who are trying to get pregnant get overly excited about the news. I did not. I was still having a hard time believing it was actually happening and now I was doomed (in a manner of having to actually figure out what I swore off for my entire life). I decided to call my mom even though it was like 11:00 pm and I knew she was in bed. She answered and we spoke very briefly. It didn't take her long to spread the news to my sister (who was also pregnant but she had been trying for years).

Since I had never paid any attention to babies and children, other than to observe why I never wanted one for myself, I had no idea what to do from here. I was completely out of my comfort zone. At first I thought I was invincible because I felt no signs of being pregnant. I had found out about as soon as a person can so it hadn't really kicked in yet. That didn't take long. I had morning sickness, although, I am not sure who came up with the idea it was only in the morning. This was an all day event. Before I got pregnant I decided that being pregnant my last year of graduate school would be fine. Even though I had to complete 700 hours towards my practicum and internship. Let me tell you, this is a hard thing to do when you are nauseous 24-7 on top of working my regular job. I soon found that in order to complete my hours by May 2012 and graduate I would need to quit my job. And so I did. I also came to the realization that my due date was May 31st 2012 which was 2 weeks after my last class. No big deal right? Wrong. My last class was only offered once a year for a full week 8-5 in May and I had to go and stay in a different city to attend the class. If I missed it I would have to wait a whole other year just to graduate! I stressed and stressed and stressed over this. I tried everything I could to negotiate with my department but they were not able to help. Many people assured me that I probably wouldn't got into labor until I was full term. I realized this was probably true but that even the possibility of it happening that one week I needed it not to was stress enough for me. After months of stressing I finally accepted that there was nothing to be done but wait and see. Incidentally, my practicum portion (which is only 100 hours) took longer to complete because of the constant nausea. I don't handle nausea very well at all. My supervisors were very understanding and seeing as I wasn't getting paid I had no real obligation to be there all the time. My "morning" sickness lasted for 5 months! I know there are people who had it worse than me because I didn't lose any weight or have to be put on a I.V or anything. I just spent my days putting in my internship hours and then going home and laying down for the rest of the day. My husband got so tired of seeing me just lay there and I wasn't on bed rest. I have some comical stories as a result of my extreme nausea but I will spare you from those.

The rest of my pregnancy went extremely well. No problems. Once my belly developed the only problem was the usual problems. Just being uncomfortable and looking huge. I had the swollen fingers and my feet started really swelling up towards the end of the pregnancy. We were so eager to find out the sex of the baby that I went to a clinic just to get an ultra sound to find out at 17 weeks rather than at my doctors appointment at 20 weeks. It's a boy! We were so excited. My husband kept thinking it would be a girl and I never had any feelings one way or the other. I assumed it would have to be a boy since way more boys are produced on my husband's side of the family. I was relived it was a boy. I can barely handle being a girl myself let a lot raising a one. I get along much better with boys.  Now the challenge was coming up with a name. We didn't decide on that until the week he was born. I ended up making it through my last class without a hitch. And, 2 weeks later my son was born.

Finding myself again

Let me start by describing my old point of view on motherhood. I did not want to be a mother. Ever. I was determined to keep to this idea the rest of my life. This was not a secret I kept to myself, either. I was very vocal about how I had no desire to be a mother. Don't get me wrong, kids are cute, but they weren't for me. I never felt that I could relate or interact with children. I didn't understand how they worked or how to communicate with them. Being that I am the youngest of 5 children, all close in age, and having most of my cousins around my age, I never really interacted with children. When I happened to be in a situation where interaction was available I felt like kids just gave me blank stares to any attempt I tried in connecting with them. Meanwhile, it seemed that every one else was able to play and laugh with the children. I refused to make any compromises to appeal to the children such as participate in "baby" talk or funny faces because it didn't fit my personality. I have always enjoyed my independence and I did not want the "burden" of a child holding me back from freely going anywhere or doing anything. I was also scared of the effects a pregnancy would have on my body and the permanent changes that could be made. I felt that I knew relatively nothing about children or how to take care of them for more than a few hours. I valued my sleep. I was not comfortable with the physical act of giving birth and did not view it as a "beautiful" process. Basically, I had a long list of reasons not to have a child and that was reason enough for me.

Luckily, I married a very understanding and accepting man. He never pressured me to have a child but did express interest in wanting a child someday. He made it clear that the decision would be mine to make. There were those who doubted I would forever stick to the "no children" plan and I would assure them it was not for me. Then, there were those who agreed that although, I wouldn't be a bad mother, I didn't have the personality for the task. I didn't watch Disney movies as a child or at least do not recall them, really. I never got excited over seeing a baby, nor did I have a desire to hold them. I didn't know nursery rhymes or children games. I very much enjoyed my lifestyle free of children and did not feel the urge to compromise that with offspring. My mother was unaccepting of my claim to never have children and would occasionally bring up the issue of me needing to start a family.

Everything was going well until things in my life starting settling. Most of my friends had moved on from me since I was married. My husband and I had graduated with our bachelor degrees. My husband had continued on to grad school and eventually I followed. 2 years after being married we moved out of our college town and into a suburban area. We were surrounded by families. This did not phase me because previously, we were surrounded by newly weds with babies and that was worse. I wasn't bothered by other people having children but by the fact that I was expected to follow suit. My husband had his first real paying job. We started saving for a house (or in our case, rental property). After almost a year of living in our new environment I started to be haunted by my thoughts of having children. At first, I felt that it was just the pressure of the culture I lived in and it's expectations to have children. I was determined to not conform to the idea that I "needed" to be a mother that was so often talked about within the culture. Then, I thought it was probably just a fleeting feeling. I had my dog and that was child enough for me. Even that had it's challenges I didn't enjoy. I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself for some time.

One day I worked up the courage to nonchalantly bring up the idea to my husband. Of course, he didn't take me seriously at first given that I had insisted for years that I would never have children and why. I expressed how I felt like I was missing something. That is when things really took off. We starting the process of looking for property to buy and I had a realization. Who was I to deny my husband of a child? I made the commitment to him and he was so willing to accept my decision not to have children. I decided I was being selfish as a wife and over my body. I was so concerned about the physical repercussions and what I saw as forfeiting my youth. I realized that I was missing the bigger picture. Who would care for me when I was old? I never thought that was reason enough to have a child but I felt I needed to be forced, in a way, to be less selfish and learn to sacrifice more. Once I made the decision I was sure. Even though I didn't exactly know what I was getting myself into. I felt it was the right thing to do and tried not to worry about the rest, especially when I felt I was not equipped personality wise to be a mother. Four months later we had bought a four-plex, moved in, and I was pregnant. Wow, there was no turning back now. And so, the story of redefining who I was and everything I fought against begins. More on this to come.