Complications

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Let me apologize for the week long hiatus. I am so sorry my dear internet. I’ve been contemplating blogging about what’s been happening, mainly because it’s all so unsure as I play the waiting game that putting it out in internetland puts the information in print for me to read again if the situation does come out badly. That’s not always a bad thing. I’ve always been a writer and going back to read what I’ve written has never killed me so I guess this won’t either.

I woke up Tuesday morning to some spotting. Almost the entire world knows that any kind of spotting when prego is….well not for sure bad, but not for sure good either. It scared me enough though to call Sweetlips home and to bust out the 2 pregnancy books we own to figure out what to do. According to the books I didn’t have too much to worry about but I should call my doctor immediately. I had to wait though….because they didn’t open for another hour. Here’s where I go in to more then you might want to know. It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it because it’s not uncomfortable for me, I think it’s more uncomfortable to the person who receives the information, and then they are left with a bunch of unanswered questions and looking at me like aw, that’s horrible, or aw…you were a whore before you got married. Either way, I don’t want to be looked at like that. When I’m in a situation where I do tell, I just say it like it’s nothing and try to move on quickly. Not because it’s nothing, but because that’s just how it has to be. Especially in this situation (and because I work a completely different job and have only been here 1.5 years) where I’m prego now and people try to tell all this stuff and it’s like okay….I’ve been pregnant before for 5 months…this is not new to me…yep, that’s when the confused look crosses the face. It’s hard not to say stuff like, “well last time…” and “and this time is this”, because then I get the look of confused face too. It’s like I have to filter everything I say to hide something that I don’t need to hide, but don’t want to shout off the mountain tops either. But here we go.

Let’s jump in our handy dandy time machine back to the year 2004. The year that beingmccrary learned more about life in one year then she had learned in her whole 27 years. I had been on and off with my exboyfriend for 2 years. I could on and on about him but I think this story will explain itself so I won’t. I will say that everyone in my life was secretly shouting (and not so secretly) at me to stay away from him and I couldn’t hear them. We were broken up at the time and hanging out only every now and then. I had been very good and never let anything happen between us. But then one night during a hornified I’m-going-to-get-me-some-moments, I gave in to my stupid stupid hormones and let things happen that should not have happened. A month later, I was taking a pregnancy test that came out positive. Initially we discussed not being together and just raising a child separately and I was okay with that. It later turned into he would never want his child raised by me and really didn’t want children so I was instructed to give the baby up for adoption. Um, kiss my ass. I was 27, not 16. I was prepared to take responsibility for my actions. Oh, and by the by, if I had an abortion I would go straight to hell…..his words exactly. Are you still kissing my ass? Kiss it again while you’re down there. I proceeded to tell my family, who was supportive but still, I’ll never forget the look of disappointment on my fathers face. I had to face my employers who didn’t even know who I was seeing or that I had seen anyone in the past year and suddenly hello….I’m knocked up! I faced different rumors every day about who my babydaddy was because that’s just how it was there. People would just come straight up to me and ask me if I even knew. But because I wasn’t telling, they assumed I didn’t know. Here I was….in management and being treated like I was in the 7^th grade. It was the worst time of my life. He never told a soul or his parents.

Life proceeded as normal, or as normally as it could. I went to my appointments with my brother or my mom and I started to adjust to this new life that was going to be taking over mine. I started to think about our future, what I needed to do or change and went on with my life without the ex’s involvement or opinion. I never heard from him again until 9 months later. And when I did he told me that he was glad it turned out the way it did, because he would never want a baby with me What a gem, wow, I really knew how to pick ‘em. But first, I go in for my first ultra sound at 20 weeks. I’m excited and ready to find out the sex of the baby. The weekend before the ultrasound I notice some slight swelling in my ankles. I bring this up to the ultrasound tech and she says she’ll bring the nurse in at the end of my appointment. We never really get to that though…..because there was really never an “end” to that appointment. Half way through the tech leaves the room to “get something”, she’s been quiet the whole time and is hardly answering our questions. When she leaves, my mom and I are very concerned. During this time the nurse had been in twice to take my blood pressure and it just keeps rising. At this time we find out that something is wrong with the baby and in result, something is becoming very wrong with me. We need to get down the hospital right away. After we arrive at the hospital they pull me in to a room by myself to tell me that they think the baby is possibly retarded and since they are not experienced with that they want to send me to a specialist at the bigger hospital down the street. What? We arrived at the specialist and were relieved with the reassurance they offered. “They should not have told you that if they are not experienced, we have bigger and better machines that can tell us more then their plain computer screen.” Oh good. Well, the baby was not retarded. It had a condition you can read about here. In my case though…because I was 20 weeks, I had to be induced and actually deliver my baby, which was a boy. I named him Owen. I am told that he looked completely normal on the outside, and that the inside organs are mostly effected by the condition. I never saw him though so I’m not sure. I don’t regret it either. And now, I don’t regret any of it. I feel badly for letting people down. But I also know that it was in the best interest of God to give this experience to me to live through. For just one minute I want you to understand what my brother did for me. He was with me the entire time and never left. He stood next to me and held my hand as I laid there with my legs in stirrups and told me stories about our child hood to take my mind off of what was happening. He was the only person I could trust to be strong and unemotional during the delivery and so I asked him to be in there and he did. He distracted me with hangman while we waited and waited for test results. He came every single day after I went home for more then a month and kept me busy. I had a lot of support from many loved ones but his support is still overwhelming to me when I think about it now.

So here it is almost 3 years later. I’m now carrying the baby of the love of my life. I promised myself that I wouldn’t worry, I couldn’t worry. I mean, it’s just not worth it. But it’s hard. I want more then anything to have my husbands’ child. As far as we know it’s only spotting, and there’s not cramping or severe pain. And actually the spotting has stopped but the doctor did say I could come in on Monday for some reassurance. He said, “I know what happened last time but the chances are very slim that it could happen again but let’s just be sure for you”. Okay doc, that’s all I need. I guess what scares me is, I had no symptoms of anything wrong last time and there so was something wrong…..so this time….what does this mean? I don’t know. And I won’t know until Monday so Sweetlips and I just pray for relaxation until then. I trust God. I have no reason not to.

Happy 58^th Birthday Dad. All my love!

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