The New Year rolled around and I grew antsy, ready to share my news with everyone. It was the middle of January, I was twenty weeks pregnant, and it felt like the right time to subject myself to the inevitable ridicule that would come from some of my Facebook friends and family. Those in the know wanted to see pictures of my bump, which was definitely growing.
Over Christmas, Lesa showed my mom a picture that was on her iPad.
"Oh, wow," my mom said, "You've got a picture of Stone Mountain. It's sideways, but it's a good picture."
I peeked at the iPad. Oh, brother.
"That's not a picture of Stone Mountain, Mom. That's a belly picture. It's the same charcoal gray shirt that I'm wearing right now."
And then I gave her a hard time about comparing my belly to a mountain. Fortunately, I can handle comments about the size of my bump since I typically have big babies. And I'm pretty petite. An average-sized baby is going to look huge in my body. A big one is going to look scary.
What I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle was the "Don't you know what causes that?' comments. Someone would make the comment. The question was who. But the time had come. I was ready to share the news.
I posted a picture of me standing next to a wall, my bump pretty obvious. The heading was "The diet and exercise just aren't working."
Felicity was the first to comment on my lovely bump. She knew my concerns and I think we almost had a bet on how long it would take for The Comment to appear. A distant cousin, who I'll call Debra, was the second person to comment. She mentioned that if I was really serious about losing weight, her sister sold a diet drink. It's fairly expensive but it works really well.
I should add that it seems like half my family sells this product. I've seen the results and it's impressive, but I don't want to have to spend thousands of dollars per year drinking that diet drink. What happens when I stop?
But I digress. Obviously, I needed to point out to Debra that I couldn't take the drink even if I wanted to. I explained that I was twenty weeks pregnant.
And the next comment from her was.... Yep. You guessed it.
"Don't you know what causes that?"
I was forty years old at the time with three kids. I'm pretty sure I know what causes pregnancy. Everyone knows it's in the water, right? Okay, maybe not.
I decided that I could probably handle the comment without going straight for the jugular. If you've ever witnessed a smackdown from me, that's how I tend to roll. I go straight for the jugular and it ends there. I try my hardest to be diplomatic but once I'm ticked, my cut is deep and it ends quickly.
A few weeks ago, I would have gone for the jugular, but now I could insert humor into my reply.
"Debra, I know exactly what got me pregnant. It was diet and exercise. I plan to avoid them as soon as I have this baby."
The rest of the comments were largely supportive. And it came at a good time because I was still debating the progesterone shots and wanted to ask my Facebook friends. Someone had to have had the shots. I wanted to know what they were like.
The following week, I had my appointment with the specialist. This also entailed an ultrasound, as it always does when I meet with the specialist. The baby was confirmed to be a girl, and she was looking great.
The doctor asked if I had made any decision regarding the progesterone shots.
I'd done enough research and asking around to know that they were painful. "Hell" was how they'd been described to me over and over and over again. I personally didn't see a reason for needing them. Timmy was only three days away from being full-term and Lesa and Lyn were only one and three days early respectively.
I sighed. "I really don't know. If you were me, would you take the shots? I'm not asking what you would recommend. I'm asking what you would do if you were in my shoes."
"I would take the shot," she answered without any hesitation in her voice.
"Okay, then. Let's set them up." I wasn't convinced, but I didn't want to be on the wrong side of thirty-two weeks, either. Not when I'd been so sick and was still vomiting a few times per week.
A few days later, the nurse called. My insurance wouldn't pay for a nurse to come to my house to give me the injection. It also wouldn't pay for the shots before I was twenty-four weeks along. I would have to be trained to give myself the shots, or I'd have to find someone who was willing to be trained since I didn't know any nurses here.
I felt this was God's way of saying that maybe I didn't need the shots. I would think about it, but I had three weeks to decide. After that, it would be too late to start them.
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Okay, everyone! I'm hoping to have lots of updates today. Not sure how much I'll be able to get to, but I'm hoping that I can get the story caught up to where I am today. A lot will depend on my children's cooperation, my body's cooperation, and whether baby decides to make her appearance today, but I will do my best.
The chapters will probably be fairly short but I will probably revise them in the near future. I honestly want to get them down before I forget. Thank you so much for your support. If I don't respond to the comments right away, I will as soon as I can.
