December 2004 was a wonderful month. L was 8 months old and we had just enjoyed our first Christmas together as a family. A couple weeks after Christmas I fell extremely ill. I could barely move I was so nauseous. My mom was over (she babysat for L) and we were taking down my tree and other decorations and she was like you have to see the doctor, I had already missed a week of work. She kept saying I was pregnant but I had taken a test and it was negative so there you have it.
I went to see the doctor and he did a whole bunch of tests including blood tests and came into the room and just blurted out “You’re pregnant”. I looked at him like what? Are you sure you have the right room. For god’s sakes I have an 8 month old. I can’t be pregnant again. I tried for 5 years to have L. I have problems getting pregnant. No way. Then the tears started. He looked at me and said well I guess it wasn’t planned. No “poop sherlock”. I got in the car with L and called JTand cried the whole way home while on the phone with him. I then called my mom and made her promise not to tell anyone because I was slightly embarrassed. To this day I have no idea why.
Now fast forward nine months through all day sickness, weight loss of 30 pounds, almost hospitalization twice, horrible inconsistent contractions and you have the early morning hours of August 29th, 2005. I woke up withannoying back pain and got up too pee (with L my water broke and I didn’t want that all over the bed) but nothing happened they were pretty painful so I woke up JT and called the Dr. He told me to go ahead and come in, called my mom and told her I needed to go to the hospital. JT got everything ready. I was just pacing in what is now the toy room waiting for my mom. I couldn’t leave my baby girl and didn’t want too, I was shaking and close to tears the whole time. My mom took her time, she took a shower and didn’t arrive for 45 minutes. (I am not telling you times because I am not positive.) We left right after that. The whole way there (30 min drive) JT kept asking me if I was okay. I told him fine, I wouldn’t tell him how bad it was because he was already driving fast and I didn’t want to have an accident. We pull in and I tell him I am going to need a wheelchair. He gives me this look like okay drama queen. He goes to get the wheelchair… I get out of the car and try to get my bag out but can’t so the only way I am comfortable is on my hands and knees so there I am in the middle of the parking lot on my hands and knees hee heeing and hoo hooing when JT comes around the corner all nonchalant. When he sees me he breaks into a sprint.
We get upstairs and I can barely move it hurts so bad and they are right on top of each other. They get me into bed, I am getting my epidural as the dr walks in, the epidural doesn’t have time to take and J is delivered within 30 minutes (or so) of arriving at the hospital. My dr told me if I ever have a third he will be admitting me into the hospital beforehand. No worries doc. There won’t be a third.
That morning we laid in bed with our little bundle watching the effects of Hurricane Katrina happen (it was around 6:00 am). It was unreal but I didn’t capture the events happening before me it was kind of a blur in my state of bliss. L never visited me in the hospital because she had a fever of 101 everyday I was gone. That was sad but we made it and my bubby boy is one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
Here are some pictures:
L didn’t really care for her brother. She was only 16 months old. I had one day of postpartum because we had had visitors galore and L wasn’t acting like my baby and I just sat and cried when JT’s family was over. My sister in law Aunt T just looked at JT and I and said we’re out of here. They need to rest and be alone. I loved that she was able to recognize that without me saying anything. Things got better everyday but L never let her brother touch her. Still doesn’t.