November 22, 2010

Daughterless


Once upon a time, I didn't have a daughter.

I had a normal Thanksgiving weekend last year...until I saw a plus sign, that is. I've written about the finding out, and I wrote out the birth story. When I took her to the doctor's this morning for her 4 month shots, we sat in the room that happened to be where my first prenatal visit was, and it got me reminiscing about the last day I had before I knew I'd have a child. I found out on a Friday night around midnight, but there were a few signs before that...

Thanksgiving was a good day, full of ridiculous amounts of food and a good time with my in-laws. I remember sitting on the floor for a while when there wasn't enough chairs, and thinking how much my back hurt. I have problems with it sometimes, but this was pretty intense. Everything else was great, though, and we drove home happy, tired, and full.

The next day, I woke up excited- my mom was flying back to visit my brother and I, it was quiet at the clinic where I worked, and life was good. Because it was the day after Thanksgiving, work was very slow, and there were only a couple of us in the building to answer phones. Midway through, I decided I needed something to eat...I came back with a 2 liter of Mountain Dew, a foot-long Subway sandwich, and copious amounts of candy. I drank the 2 liter by myself. (I doubt this is doctor-recommended.)

Then, I decided I wanted to help decorate the clinic for Christmas. So I climbed on benches to string lights, drug a heavy Christmas tree down long hallways and into the lobby, and climbed up to a high window ledge to put the star on top. (Also a bad idea.) I remember going home at lunch and taking a nap the whole hour- I couldn't figure out why I was so exhausted, even after the hard work with the tree.

After work, Sky and I went over to my brother's house to see my mom. We talked, we laughed, and we had a good dinner. I drank half a beer (only half, because it was some gross import my brother convinced me to try). We went home early-ish because I was still so tired.

When we finally climbed into bed, my mind wandered. It didn't make sense to feel so tried and so crampy for the past week. Wheels turned and clicked in my head until I turned and looked at Sky. He suggested I take a test. I protested. Then I thought about it for a few minutes. And then I had to take one. I set in on the floor and looked at it for a while. I raced down the hall to grab Sky's hand and pull him back with me to look at it. The rest, of course, is history. And for the remainder of the pregnancy, I did much better- no drinking, no smoking, etc. She turned out beautifully.

It's good to know she wasn't affected by gallons of Mountain Dew and swinging around on Christmas trees.

1 kind comments from you:

Mr. Superman & Mrs. S. said...

Oh I love this! Such a crazy turn of events yes?

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