Preamble. (Part I)
What follows is not a birth story. What follows is what came after that.
And my warning to you, o! Internet, my Internet is this: what follows will probably be kind of boring. It may be self-indulgent and whiny. At times it may make no sense to you why I felt a certain way or why I still feel this way. What follows is probably never going to win me any blog awards or any new friends and I am okay with this.
Like anything else I’ve ever written–even the most banal of blog posts–I am writing it because I can’t not.
It must be told.
————–
My pregnancy with Amelia was not exactly a planned one. It wasn’t unplanned though, it just was. I hadn’t been back on birth control since Alex was born in March of 2007 and by May of 2008 I was pregnant for the third month in a row. The previous months had been marked by the hormonal roller coaster of back-to-back miscarriages, so when that pink line popped up for the third month in a row, it was almost by rote that I called Dave at work, told him the news and warned him not to get too excited.
Instead of immediately miscarrying, the pregnancy seemed to stick. Until about Week 6, when I began to spot. Having never seen a drop of blood with either of the boys, I immediately assumed the worst and prepared for the next miscarriage by calling the OB for another shot of Rho-gam.
(let me whine pointlessly for a moment and say this: I am pretty certain that they inject Rho-gam with a straw from McDonald’s. I have had 3 babies–one sans working epidural–and I swear, that stupid shot is always the worst part)
My heart was pretty heavy as we made our way to the OB’s the following morning and to add insult to injury, I was still nauseous as hell and bawling like an annoying small child. I’m sure the entire waiting room appreciated my sniffling and hiccuping. Alas, it was my turn to go back, and after giving about 4 gallons of blood (rough estimate) and determining that the bleeding had stopped and my cervix was tightly shut, I was sent for an ultrasound at another office.
The minute the tech inserted the camera up my pooter–after insisting The Daver stay in the waiting room, which, hello awkward–I saw it. She cast her pixilated, gummy bear heart on me and I was in love. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, went home and gorged on some Flavor-Ice. The following morning, the OB grimly called to inform me that my progesterone was somewhere in the single digits. This is, apparently, very bad.
So for the next twelve weeks, I was instructed to unceremoniously shove bullet shaped suppositories up the old lady bits twice a day, which trust me, as they melt, is like sitting in a pile of waxy spooge all day long. What I’m trying to say is that it was very, very pleasant.
But whatever, a little leaky vagina I could handle. The spotting continued on and off until I realized that perhaps I didn’t need to scratch the surface of my poor cervix with the suppository, and then it stopped for good. Everything was calm. Well, as calm as living with a monkey wearing a toddler suit can be, while your spouse is off fighting financial battles all day (and night) long during a huge crash in the markets.
(Lengthy boring aside #1: did I mention that The Daver is in finance? And that he had just accepted a position to become a manager when I fell knocked-up? Because yeah. The timing was awesome.)
(Lengthy boring aside #2: I feel I also must add here to give some additional information to those who haven’t been anxiously reading and rereading my (boring) archives and committing every one of my trite posts to memory. I don’t do pregnancy well. I get awful, crippling anxiety and mind-numbing depression while I cook my babies. It’s called prepartum depression. It’s very serious and it’s very real.)
But life trucked on for us all, the markets slowly sinking and Nat (my eldest’s biological father) coming by to predict the end of days every week or two. He’d take some time off in between to chastise my choice of, well, anything: car, house, lawnmower, you name it, he’d judge it loudly. Is it any wonder my trolls don’t bug me much?)
Anyhow. Moving along.
My 18 week ultrasound revealed not much at all. Baby looked like it might maybe kind of have a vagina of her own, but I was chastised by pretty much the entire office staff for “coming in too early.” I had a repeat US at 22 weeks which revealed that my daughter indeed had a vagina, a perfect heart and a perfect brain.
Obviously. She is my daughter after all.
Internet, I am telling you that when the tech told me that I was having a daughter of my own, I shed real tears. Despite my rocky relationship with my mother, I’d wanted a daughter so badly that I could taste it, but I just knew I was destined to be a mother of boys. Forever The Queen of the Sausages. I never thought I could possibly be lucky enough to have a daughter.
And yet, there she was, a blobby mess that I could ascertain very little from, although I was quickly pointed out the 3 lines (a.k.a. “the cheeseburger”) which signified that she was without penis. I couldn’t have been happier.
My very own daughter.
I was lucky enough to have a daughter.
Amelia.
My daughter.
Words cannot possibly describe the joy I still feel when I say that.
I have a daughter.
You know? That was charming. I didn’t know where you were going but I was glad when you got there.
I’m going to be checking back for the rest of the story even though I was here, line for line, chewing off my own nails waiting for her arrival. Sending you strength as you share your/her story.
OH Becky I too thought I was destined to be a sausage queen…..and like you went through miscarriage and ultimately ended up with a “cheeseburger” and not a “hot dog” on my US.
I always thought I’d be a boy mommy…never a girl mommy…that my life would never have pink and fluffy and frillies in it…only distruction and bugs and dirt.
I know that feeling of having a daughter after having two boys…and I can’t wait for the rest….tea parties, american girl although I am NOT looking forward to the sleep-overs, broken hearts, the girl squeals and more than one menstruating female in my house….but at the same time I am.
There’s nothing like having a girl for a mom. Enjoy every pink fuzzy moment of it….as will I.
And…?
I completely love how some medical people like to chastise moms to be right before my daughter was born I was sent for an ultrasound because my Ob thought she might be really big (the hubs was a 10 pounder so it could happen). The tech was all “she is perfectly average why are you here?” And let me tell you you should not be snotty with a woman who is ready to pop any minute, I told her off while I was crying. I mean I’m not a baby catcher- I just did what the doctor told me to do. She ran away fast.
I (heart) you. And this wasn’t even remotely boring.
xoxo
Thank you for sharing this with all of nutters out here. I know how you feel even tho I haven’t the courage to get to writing mine down yet. I still get teary when I awoke and heard that I too had a daughter after assuming that I too was having yet another boy. It’s the best thing ever isn’t it;)
Ur a funny girl. Congrat’s on your sideways taco (?!). I love mine too, they are the coolest chicks ever, as will be Amelia (of course).
Boy, do I ever feel lucky that I got prometrium instead of those lovely suppositories/pessaries/whatever.
It was a rough road to your little girl – and you didn’t even get to enjoy the wonder of a daughter right away. I’m hoping that there is nothing else to interrupt your joy. And prepartum depression? That’s gotta be like a double mind-fuck after a couple miscarriages. My sympathies.
BTW, where does Nat live? I think he deserves repeated random shots to the nuts from all of your loyal readers. Like, he’s just walking along and someone comes up, kicks him in the balls and keeps walking. Over and over. Ben must be a giant ball of awesomeness (in spite of whatever limitations he has) to make up for his ass of a father.
This wasn’t boring at all. And, I fucking HATE those suppositories too.
My family is mostly boys. My mom was the only girl, then me, then a second cousin when I was 25. So when I found out I was having a girl, my stellar response? “are you shittin me?” I am alway high risk so I get a ton of ultrasounds and every time I would ask again if she was really a girl. When she was 6 months old I finally stopped saying “she really is a girl”. Daughters rule. (so do sons, but their clothes are boooooring) I love it when the various medical professionals don’t get their crap together. Looking forward to more of your story.
I remember you sending me the email telling me you had a girl, I cried a little tear for you b/c I knew from your words just how happy you were. And I remembered being told when my daughter was born that she was a girl and my heart floated out of me I was so happy, and I knew that was exactly how you felt at that moment.
It rocks.
xxoo
How sweet. This reminded me of how thrilled I was to find out I was having a little girl.
That disclaimer? Totally unnecessary. Very lovely and very interesting story. Not boring at all.
This? Is GOOD.
Beautiful.
I come to your site because you are so raw, honest, and funny without trying too hard. That disclaimer is totally unnecessary! Although I must admit that when I got to the end of this I was kinda sad — I wanted more — and can’t wait to read it.
I’m so sorry to read about your miscarriages and this shitty prepartum depression thing — like really, pregnancy isn’t hard enough already? Are there any sort of remedies to help deal with that, or do you just have to struggle along?
I wish my ultrasound tech had told me “oh yep, I see a cheeseburger!” because I would have died laughing. As it was, for my 20 week ultrasound, my little girl had her legs crossed and we had to jiggle my belly & poke at her with the ultrasound wand for a good five minutes before she finally uncrossed them and let us see. I know, so mean, right?
Anyhow, you’re fucking awesome, your blog is phenomenal, etc etc etc. Looking forward to the next post about this π
You know what I HATED about this post – the disclaimer. UNNECESSARY.
I also hate having to wait for more….
Whatever. I just wrote a really long comment about wanting girls and then it got erased. Gah! So happy that you got your girl!
Oh, girls are so much fun… all the pretty clothes, bows, ruffles, sequins and genuine imitation gem stones. They do talk a lot though… sort of like a wind-up doll that never runs down.
Not boring at all.
I thought I was destined to be the Mommy of Boys as well. And now I am doubly blessed – two daughters! After two boys, I was more than ready for girlie girl stuff…although I do love to play with Hot Wheels. And Legos. And dirt. This is probably why my oldest daughter does, too! At least I can put a dress on her! Enjoy your princess. Some in society like to pretend that boys and girls are the same. They’re not. They’re just…not.
And I can’t wait to hear the rest of the story…
I was so worried it would not be a girl that I decided it was a boy, just to prep, and then when I had the big ultrasound, was so sick with nerves I was crazy nauseous, so I had to lay on my side and missed the whole thing. And then I didn’t believe them when they said girl. But it was a girl!!!
First of all, that site you sent us to was fuckin’ awesome.
Second, I can remember when this was all happening, and we were all right there with you, worrying and hoping and sharing in your joy.
Third, phrases like this – “as they melt, is like sitting in a pile of waxy spooge all day long.” are the biggest reason why you rock out with your (non) cock out, Aunt Becky.
I like being a girl even though my favorite color is yellow.
And I second or third or fourth all of the comments above, the disclaimer was really unnecessary. π
Completely interesting. Two thumbs up π
I <3 you more and more with each post. This one especially.
You are so amazing, and I totally understand the joy of the little girl. I was so scared of having a boy and when my daughter practically sat on the camera the whole US, it was amazing. I was so happy.
I cannot wait until the next piece.
Very touching. I too had 2 back to back miscarriages before having boy#4. I laways wondered if they were my girls. I so know the feeling though of preparing for another miscarriage. Every little cringe or cramp I assumed was the beginning of the end. Can’t wait to hear the rest (although I mostly know it!)
I remember reading about this as it happened but happy to read the more reflective version too. Lets have more!
[…] Part I. Please read the disclaimer if you haven’t. […]
Beautiful. I <3 you, too.
You’re preaching right to the choir on the damn shots. I had one at 12 weeks after CVS, another at 29 weeks and promised another at delivery. Yay me. The one at 29 weeks BOUNCED off my skin. Nurse has no clue why-needle musta been dull. JOY. Great writing!
Beautiful, Becks. Just like you and Amelia.
It’s good to have cheeseburgers.
Yes. Just, yes.
Amid all the turmoil…………….there are blessings.
Not boring at all, quite inspiring actually. Beautiful story about Amelia and I am so sorry about your miscarriages and PPD. {Hugs}
[…] this in chronological order, so it may look a little weird in your reader. If you can’t see Part I and Part II, here they are. Or, at least, if you come to the site, it should appear in order. Part […]
I wanted a baby girl so bad that when the ultrasound tech gave me the news I was having a boy, I cried. Then looked at his daddy and said, “You really messed up.” (Or something more vulgar.) But…I have a very cute little boy that means the world to me. Now. Though I’m still longing for tea parties and pink lacey things, and the minute men can actually carry the baby around in their swollen bellies, I’ll sign up for another baby!
Your babies are all precious and beautiful. Congratulations.
“sitting in a pile of waxy spooge all day long” – Becky, you have a gift for this sort of disgusting description. Just reading that made me squirm in my chair.
Also, even though I am currently without child, I have always had an odd fear that I too would always be a sausage queen, and not a cheeseburger breeder. I am so happy that it’s not always the way it seems. I want a daughter, too.
Awww so glad you got both sons and a daughter, I had my daughter first and although she loves her daddy and he is her hero… we still have fun together doing girl stuff like nails, hair, and shopping. But I got my son, and he loves his mommy….
And did you crave flavor-ice when you were preggo?? I ate a box a week when I was preggo my daughter it was the only thing that I would stomach without projectile vomiting all over.
[…] this in chronological order, so it may look a little weird in your reader. If you can’t see Part I and Part II, and Part III, here they are. Or, at least, if you come to the site, it should appear […]
That was just beautiful.
I have two boys and, of course, love them to death. People used to ask when our second was born (and were decided to be done) whether I was sad that I hadn’t had a girl–which I always thought was the dumbest question ever, like I was going to answer that yes, I would happily swap out one of my kids for another with different genitals.
But then, surprise surprise, we got pregnant again. And as with the other two, we didn’t find out who was in there until the delivery. It was a C-section, and the dr asked if I wanted to be the one to announce the baby’s sex. I did, so they said nothing and just held our newborn up in the air so I could see. But all I could see was from the waist up! So I kept saying “What is it? I can’t see! What is it?” Finally they figured it out and showed me our little girl. The truth is, I cried. My boys are perfect, wonderful creatures. But there are so many reasons I wanted a daughter. Maybe it’s stupid, but part of me hopes I can have the relationship with her that I never quite managed with my own mom. At the very least, I get to put her in cute clothes until she gets sick of them.
I clicked over and read the Asshole email thing and chuckled my way through it…. seeing your sense of humor I came back to read the whole post.
I can’t imagine the highs and lows that you have been through with your pregnancies. I am so happy for you that you got a beautiful daughter. π
I know the disclaimer was for the angry trolls who show up here (and on the oddest of posts – like that last crazed bitch who didn’t want you in her Mommy group? WTFF?) from time to time, but I just want you to know that with me, and with most of us regulars here, you never have to quantify that you know lots of people have it worse, babe.
Hell, everyone has things worse than someone else at some point. Doesn’t make the sucky parts of our lives any less sucky for us.
I think you’re amazing.
I don’t really have much to say, just want you to know I’m reading your junk. π And I can’t wait to have a bebe. A daughter would be fantastic. Except can I give her up during the teenage years?
[…] Mommy Wants Vodka will make you cry with her birth story. […]
[…] Iβve written about it before, but I’m not sure Iβve ever given as much detail as I did in my email to Lindsey. (It happened six years ago, but Iβve only recently been able to talk about it without tearing up.) Below is the beginning of my email to her (itβs kind of a long story, so Iβm going to break it up into pieces, a la the Mimi series to make you cry and then go hug your children). […]
[…] full story here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and […]
[…] full story here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and […]