Goodness gracious its been a long time! But, I will make no apologies for it, because holy cow! Pregnancy sucked the life out of me, and adjusting to having another little one in the house these first few months have been a juggling process!
My GOAL is to do a few posts talking about my pregnancy, labor and delivery, post partum, and adjusting to two littles. No promise on all those being written or being written in a timely manner. Writing is a hobby, but the kids are a full time job.
So! Without further ado!
Getting the BFP (That’s Big Fat Positive)
With my first pregnancy I was in denial so I didn’t get really excited or my hopes up for fear of something going wrong. This time was a little more dramatic, but same on the lack of a joyous response. (Poor Milkman, he is waiting for the day when we can pop the apple cider and throw a party when I get a BFP, but for now, we laugh over my less than jubilant responses, considering I am baby obsessed).
On the last Monday night in November, I was nursing Captain to sleep after night time bath, book and prayers. Nursing had been very painful for a couple of weeks and we assumed it was due to Captain teething, however, I had a feeling something was off. Nursing, while painful as your body adjusts the first 2 or 3 weeks of a baby’s life, should not hurt as bad as it did nursing my 9 month old. I popped down the hall after Captain was asleep and told my husband, Milk Man, that I was going to take a shower before I came out to unwind on the couch with him. I was just about to step in the shower and thought, “I should take a pregnancy test. Something is off.” (this may be a good time to mention for dinner that night I had made a casserole that Milkman choked down and I was raving about, out of sweet potatoes, carrots, beef, raw tomatoes, olives and broccoli… I ate half the pan!) So, I found a test in the back of the medicine cabinet and waited 2 minutes, and there it was. The plus sign. Calm. Breathing. Calm. Breathing. PANIC.
I ran down the hall and Milk Man could see by my face something was wrong. I proceeded to cry. HYSTERICALLY. And then, like they do in the movies when something bad happens, I melted to the floor and wept and wailed and MM kept asking what was wrong and I couldn’t even form words. Finally he said, “Baby! WHO DIED?!” And I responded with, “I’M NOT READY TO WEAN!!!!” Poor Milk Man looked completely flabbergasted.
“Um, babe, I didn’t say you should, why do you think you have to wean Captain?”
“Be… cause… ::GASP FOR AIR:: I’M PREGNANT!”
Oh, to capture Milk Man’s face in that moment. He got a big smile and assured me it was okay and we’d be fine and that he was happy, and couldn’t we be happy this time? I ranted about how we couldn’t have another baby, because Captain was still up 10 times a night and I heard you have to wean when pregnant, and could we afford another, and I only want one baby (lies, I want 15), and how guilty I felt and how we weren’t supposed to be ABLE to get pregnant (the doc told us after Captain that due to a gene mutation I have, we would most likely not have anymore).
Once I stopped my list of reasons why we couldn’t have another baby, and Milk Man was stifling his laughter from my hysteria, he assured me that we were going to have a baby and it was a good thing, and God would work out the rest. We prayed and then ordered a special supplement from amazon to help mamas with my gene mutation have a better chance of having a whole child and a full term pregnancy.
We got into bed and I held Captain a little tighter that night when he got in our bed to nurse. Somehow, it would be okay.