Look back pains

I'm sure I've mentioned that I'm a mother of a toddler and if I haven't, well there you go. My husband and I have a two year old son who is the greatest little person I've ever encountered. Yes I am biased, but so what he's my little honey bump. Now that he is two I find myself in the situation where everyone is asking about another one... are we gonna give him a sibling, what about a girl, etc. I've gotten the question so much I'm now comfortable telling everyone my honest feelings. That I'd like to "give" him a sibling but it was not easy getting him here, so it's all in God's hands.

If you talked to me during my pregnancy, I would tell you everything is fine, all is well no worries. In all actuality that was pretty far from the truth. I mean those three trimesters were a trying time and I'm grateful for God's blessings, my wonderful supportive and protective husband, and my awesome OB. I can't say we could have this conversation without her and her skill and experience. She was put in our lives at the right time and she was the doctor we needed for a successful pregnancy. Nugget of knowledge number one - do not keep an obstetrician with whom you are uncomfortable. Whether you feel they are too busy, inconsistent, not attentive enough... go find one who meets your needs. This is especially important for Black women to do since there are so many areas of bias in the medical field against women of color.

The first trimester was sullied with consistent spotting and uncertainty. I mean prior experiences had me wholly skeptical and I was unsure if there would be a little baby. So I just went though the first nine weeks like nothing was going on(except that I was taking prenatal vitamins) until our first visit when we saw proof this was a viable pregnancy. I guess this type of response is not specific to me, I listened to the podcast "Terrible Thanks for Asking" and she shared her same sentiments with her third pregnancy. I guess I am not such a weirdo as I thought at the time. Our doctor being fully briefed on my infertility issues went right into management mode. I left with a viable pregnancy and instructions to follow until the next checkup. She was adamant about making it to her office or hospital if there were any issues and I listened to her. My husband and I followed her great instructions to the letter and my husband even added his own restrictions as well. So operation restrictions was in full effect.

Based on our history, which was an unacceptable batting average at best, we never revealed a pregnancy until after the end of the first trimester. So we stressed and suffered in silence with one another. We attended some social events, missed others, and made it to a sports event to try to distract ourselves from the uncertainty. So far things were working and we were happy. We were so paranoid we bought a handheld heart monitor and gel. This way we could listen to the baby's heartbeat and do our own little checkup while waiting for the next official one.

Then the second trimester began. By now some people were in the know. We had milestones to measure and keep us on track and in the know. Luckily the bleeding stopped to give us a little bit of relief. Now, insert low iron levels and a new supplement to take. Daily supplements and vitamins totaling six pills for five prescriptions by this time. This was all in the name of a healthy baby at the end of the rainbow, because this would finally be our rainbow baby. He had to make it. Then my body parts were being stretched to unimagined limits. Tendonitis set in my wrist, my feet and ankles were swollen and hurt like my bones were breaking and caving in on itself. My nose spread far and wide across my face.

All of these were the new found "joys" of the pregnancy. This was just the cost of getting our little baby closer to the finish line.

Besides the bad things there was good news abound. First, we found out that we would have a baby boy! That was so special and awesome because I really had no idea what to expect. I was just excited that my husband would have a little sidekick around the house. More good news came with him growing a bit ahead of schedule and having worry free scans. No genetic disorders, no abnormalities apparent on the scans, and extra sonograms because we were high risk. I was able to see the little man at every visit and he was just a marvel to our eyes. We we were getting three-D scans and trying to see whose features he had. His lips were the biggest mystery because his lips didn't look like mine or his dad's on the scan. When he came out, they were definitely his dad's.

The final stretch of the pregnancy is when all of the lessons rushed to me. I admire and maybe envy (a little) those people who have/had Instagram perfect pregnancies. I maybe had two or three days when I felt cute, maybe even picture ready cute. I had to wear these slip on shoes from Walmart because my feet were so swollen. I had an unflattering shape even in maternity clothes from H&M, Target, and Motherhood Maternity. The clothes were cute but I just was not model cute during my pregnancy. I was super tired and got the raccoon eyes. I had such wonderful plans for the last stretch. I was going to have everything together at work. I would work until a week before my due date. I would get all of the pamper treatments and call in a maid service to do a deep clean of the house. Then, I would buy anything left over from the baby shower and come home and wait for the baby to come. All this went out of the window when my son came about six weeks early. I missed everything, all the plans were out the window. This is the tidbit of knowledge number two. Plans will change, can change, and are highly suggestive when a baby is involved. Not even my birthing plan was in effect. Everything went the opposite of how I wished.

I learned rather quickly how to keep it moving and to roll with the flow. In the end, we were blessed throughout it all because we survived it all so really there is not much to complain about.

The third bit of advice I would give is to think big picture and celebrate the wins along the way. I am two years passed my pregnancy and delivery and I'm just realizing that hey, things were not peachy. They were scary and stressful, but the mission took over and I never realized it in the moment. I did not have the luxury of bringing any negativity to our pregnancy. All I could do is make sure we were on task and things were as normal as could be. Like I mentioned earlier, there was definitely discomfort, pain, and uncertainty but every thought and bit of energy was focused on delivering a healthy baby boy. Allowing myself to get over the moment for the sake of the end goal was the best lesson.

My delivery was an emergency C-section at 3am. Again, no time to get teary, have a meltdown, or negotiate. All I could do is have my son cut from my body. This was not my plan at all, I wanted a natural drug free birth and this was certainly not it. After delivery my baby went straight to the NICU. So there I laid on the table alone with the doctors sewing me up. I have my bikini scar to remind me of the surgery and a kiddo to be thankful for the scar.

I've read that the body releases hormones which are supposed to fill you with so much love and joy that the mother forgets about the pain of childbirth. I had a spinal block so I felt no pain but I did feel anxiety. At this point, I still feel anxiety and I'm not sure why. This reflection makes me hold true to the idea that only God knows whether another little baby will come from our union. I know if there is another, I'm going to work hard on a healthy full term pregnancy. I'll also try for a few more IG ready days. I probably have a total of five pictures from my first pregnancy and I'm gonna need to work harder to enjoy it but if tunnelvision is needed again, then tunnelvision it will be.