In my last post, I promised to tell you the story about how I found out I was pregnant. I was going to say "here's the story about how I got pregnant" but that story isn't actually that interesting and I was too bombed to remember the details anyway. Whoever said "a good story never starts with a salad" was spot on.
Anyway, our beloved SamSam (the one I affectionately call an f'ing monster) was about 10 months old. She's been a real piece of work since the minute she entered this world. Actually, she was a monster BEFORE that…most notably during the EIGHTEEN hours of labor to physically get her into this world. The doc who gave me the epidural was about 12 and was obviously on a performance improvement plan at Fairview Hospital. If Sam was going to enter the world through my heel, or even my knee, I would have been GOLDEN because those things were numb as hell. Everything north of that, not so much. Major buzz kill.
Anyway, she was about 10 months old and was already hell on Robeez. We were preparing to move to a new city for my hubby's job and he's 100 years old so we decided that our family was complete with the four of us.
I was spending a lot of time at the gym but still didn't feel like I was getting great results. The girls were sleeping fairly well but I could still barely pull myself out of bed every morning. I stopped by the pharmacy on my way home from work to pick up a refill on my birth control pills. The pharmacist comes over and asks if I have any questions. I explain that I am tired and bloated and suggest that I might want to try a new pill with fewer side effects. He looks puzzled and says "When was your last menstrual cycle". I reply "2010 (it was 2013 at the time) but I've basically been pregnant and/or nursing since then." He pauses and says "Is there a chance you could be pregnant?" I do the laugh that makes a noise and say "No way! I've had two kids, I would know if I was pregnant…I mean…I'd be tired….bloated……shit….shit….shit". I grab the pills and race to the "adult" aisle at Target. I buy the EPT 3 pack and bolt home.
John was out of town at the time (shocker!) so I decided I would take the test after I put the girls to bed. The plus sign showed up INSTANTLY. I had the obvious reaction….I barfed. You would have thought I was a 16 year old taking the pregnancy test in my parents basement for god's sake.
I called the next day to make an OB appointment. I show up and the doc basically repeats the questions the pharmacist asked me. They confirm that I'm pregnant and decide to do a "dating ultra sound". I quip "what are you? match.com for fetuses?" He's not amused.
The ultra sound reveals that I'm 11.5 weeks pregnant. He suggests that I stop taking the birth control pills. I reply "No shit, sherlock". He then asks me "Do you drink regularly?" I laugh (out loud) and say "Umm…I instagrammed a picture of a mojito I was drinking at LUNCH yesterday…BY MYSELF." He gave me the understandable judgement face and says "I'd recommend refraining from alcohol going forward". The shock of the past 24 hours had resulted in a semi permanent loss of my "filter" so I quickly respond "Do you think I should maybe wean it (the fetus) off the booze? Or should I definitely do cold turkey?" He didn't actually speak but his "look" gave me the answer. I quickly agreed "yeah, I mean, I agree, cold turkey for sure." He then tells me that John and I should start talking about more permanent measures to prevent pregnancy if we don't want any additional children. Boy, Captain Obvious is a real genius!!
I must say, it all ended perfectly. Pregnancy flies by a lot quicker when you drink through the first trimester and at the end we ended up with the most adorable little boy who turned out just perfect despite my mojito lunches during the first trimester. As my mom reassured me "I drank all the time when I was pregnant with you kids and you guys turned out just fine!" Well…that's debatable….
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