Blessing # 2

It was 2016. I was training for my 3rd half marathon. I took my pre-workout and headed out for my maintenance run. I went 1/3 of a mile around the corner and through the gate that housed the park. The park had a good trail run circling it, that totaled 3 miles. I felt great. I got to the entrance of the trail and saw an old man picking a wild flower. In my mind, I pictured him being a loving husband picking that for his loving wife of umpteen years. I cried. Wait. What? Why am I crying. I don’t cry. I tightened my ponytail and went on my way up the trail. At the top of the trail the sun was mid rise. I saw a man kneeling to pray facing the sun.

::::Its Happening Again:::

The water starts flowing from my eyes and nose. The sounds begin. Its hiccupping sobs. I am freaking Kim K crying again? I KNOW this cry because I only cry like this in death and in pregnancy. From the trail, I ran to the local grocery store, which was on the way home. I purchased a pregnancy test. An hour later, it was confirmed

Boom. PregnantAgain

Baby # 2 was unplanned. That’s right. At 32 years old, I now will have not just one but two unplanned babies. This was a completely different time in my life. My relationship was stable. I was financially stable. I had been at this “Momming” gig for 5 years now. Going into my 2nd pregnancy was much different than my 1st.

I showed early with my 2nd. So, speculations started when I was 7 weeks pregnant. You read right, people actually asked me if I was pregnant before I had even seen a Doctor. Now the fun pregnancy announcement we had planned would not happen.

PSA FOR THOSE WHO NEED TO BE REMINDED DO NOT ASK A WOMAN IF SHE IS PREGNANT. EVER.

THIS WILL INSTANTLY MAKE YOU AN ASSHOLE.

A few weeks went by and it was time for the gender ultrasound. My sweet daughter had already named this baby Khloe. She would tell everyone about the sweet sister she had in my stomach. She was so excited to have a little sister. Imagine her excitement when the Ultrasound tech said, “see that thing right there! Its a boy!”

As soon as my 4 year old daughter heard that she fell to her knees in agony.

“BUT I WANTED A SISTER NAMED KHLOEEEEEEE!”

Weeks went by. She would beg me daily to have a girl. Every day she would tell me all of the reasons having a girl is better than a gross boy. Daily she would throw a temper tantrum over the fact that I was still pregnant with a boy. Every. Fucking. Day.

After a few months, my daughter would come around to the idea of having a boy, though she would always make it known that she wanted a sister named Khloe.

Your second child is so different than your first. Your busier, so you don’t find the time to bond with your little growing baby. I worried if I would love him, like I love her. How could I love anyone the way I loved her. I didn’t feel close to him, like I did with her.

Months went by. I got bigger and bigger. I was pregnant FOREVER. Seriously. At the time, the world was anxiously awaiting April the Giraffe to give birth. I was due before her. She delivered before me.

I had reached a point in my life where I was jealous of a Giraffe. In the last months of my pregnancy, everything hurt and getting up came with sound effects. His movements would hurt my small frame. His Dad would watch him move at night and one night he would ask me, “Does that hurt you? It looks like it hurts you. I can’t believe how uncomfortable that looks” There was literally no more annoying question and observation than that at that time. Yes, it is really fucking uncomfortable. My body was broken and I would be pregnant forever…. FOR-E-VER (in my best Sandlot impersonation)

In the last few weeks leading up to my due date, I was doing all of the labor inducing tricks. You name it, I tried it. Pineapple. Walking. Labor induction salad, Twerking til my water broke… which it didn’t. I even wrote him a letter to kindly GTFO of my uterus.

A week past his due date. I woke up and rolled my self out of bed to pee. Just then my water broke. I woke up his Dad and excitedly shouted “It’s happening! My body is not broken! My water broke!” We both got up, showered, did some laundry and prepared my hospital bag. My cousin showed up to watch my little girl and I proudly headed to the hospital feeling on top of the world because, hey, girl HEEEEY, my body was doing exactly what it was supposed to do. I arrived at the hospital and proudly announced to the nurses, that MY WATER HAD BROKEN. They took me to a room and tested me for amniotic fluid, to ensure my water had actually broken. The nurse proceeded to tell me that many women come in thinking their water broke, but they had actually just urinated. I laughed. I laughed at how much it must suck for those women to think they were finally going into labor, just to find out they pissed their pants. Must suck to be them….

15 minutes later the nurse returns. My test showed it WAS NOT amniotic fluid and I must have urinated and confused that with my water breaking. Obviously, the test was wrong! I demanded they test me again. 15 minutes later…

Boom. You pissed yourself.

I was a hot mess at this news. I was angry that I was not going to have my baby today. I was embarrassed because we sent our families text messages that my water broke. If I didn’t give birth within 24 hours, the jig would be up! The whole family would know I peed my pants. After a few laps around the hospital and a call to my Doctor, they decided to induce me. I was a week over my due date and dilated to a 5. It was sweet, sweet victory! The whole family would not know that I had just pissed myself and in a few hours I would have my baby.

I labored for 4 hours. I got the epidural, so my labor was again filled with popsicles, social media updates and rest. Around 6pm the nurses brought my favorite littlest cart that held the tiniest diaper and tiniest hat.

I pushed for two hours. Nothing. This was very different than my 15 minute push with my daughter. He was big and my frame was small. His delivery was filled with suspense and fear. I was approaching the danger zone. FINALLY, he made it out at over 8lbs. He was perfectly healthy and he had the most beautiful red hair.

A few hours later, his sister came to meet her baby brother. She jumped on the bed with me and excitedly put her arms out to hold him. We placed him in her arms and she said with the sweetest voice, “we have to keep this baby forever, right? Cuz this is our baby.”

And just like that, my daughter was promoted to big sister and we were now a party of four. Our family felt whole and for a few months, life felt perfect.