The Working Momma

I think that at the close of my last post on this subject I was just about finished with college. I don’t really feel like going back to read it so that is just going to be my starting point and if I have missed something, then oh well.

I met HH the next to the last semester that I was in school. I wasn’t looking at the time since I had been seeing someone for quite a while. We met in one of the lab classes. I was a student and he was a TA (teaching assistant). We became buddies, talking a little before or after class and such. He would help my group out with the experiments and such. I received quite a few comments that semester about how he had the hots for me or that he was totally flirting but I guess I was too dense to see it. Plus, I already had a boyfriend. I figured that we were just friends. He never made any overt moves or anything. That semester ended and then there was the summer. I wasn’t taking any classes so I didn’t see him at all. I pretty much just hung out at my boyfriend’s house. I came back to school for my last semester and HH was still there. I didn’t know much about him personally except that he had to be in the Graduate Program. I thought that maybe he would have been finished. I had seen him since my first semester at school but never talked to him until that previous semester. We became fast friends during my (and his) last semester. We would actually look for each other when we got up to the school. The semester went by in a blur and soon it was time for finals. HH and I had never gone out or even done anything other than talk and study on campus. I still didn’t think that he liked me “that way” so when he asked me if I wanted to go get something to eat sometime I was all “sure, how bout tonight?”. My boyfriend had his weekly no girls allowed poker game with his friends and what was the harm in going to get a bite to eat with a friend after studying for finals all day? We went to Luby’s which is a cafeteria. I drove us and when we got back to campus we had one of those awkward moments trying to say bye. He ended up getting out of the car and then getting back in and kissing me. First kiss. Totally caught by surprise. Was not expecting it. Shocked. Confused.

After that, things moved relatively fast. I dumped the other guy and HH and I started dating. He told me he loved me the first time on Christmas Eve 2004 when it was snowing. I moved out of my parent’s house and into his apartment complex at the end of February. He proposed in March or April. I was super sick at the time with a cold. It wasn’t very romantic but he was super sweet about it. We were going to get married in November 2005. During our brief engagement, I was diagnosed with PCOS (poly cystic ovary syndrome) and told that it was pretty bad and that I probably wouldn’t be able to have kids. We started “trying” about September. We had our wedding in November and it was beautiful and amazing. We started looking for a house shortly there after because 2 apartments just wasn’t cutting it. We found our house at the end of the year and made the offer and had it accepted on New Year’s Day. A few weeks later we found out we were pregnant. This is where the fun begins.

Because of the PCOS, my progesterone levels had to be watched so I was having blood drawn every other week for the first 3 months. I had to take progesterone supplements because my levels were too low. Being heterozygous for Factor V Leiden, I was at an increased risk for a clot to form while pregnant and kill me or the baby. So I had to give myself daily shots of Lovenox (a blood thinner that is as thick as molasses and burns like fire). I did this religiously even though I am scared to death of needles. At least I was, at this point I am just not very fond of them. Other than that, the first two trimesters went pretty well. The last trimester is a whole other story. I stopped gaining weight and the baby started to not grow as much as needed. I started having to go in for regular ultrasounds to monitor his growth. Talk about starting to stress me out. It seemed like I couldn’t even grow a baby right. Then, about a month and a half before he was due, I was at work one morning and everyone else was in meetings except for this 80-year-old guy. I worked about 30 miles from my doctor and the hospital. I started having cramps/contractions. I called the doctor’s office and they told me to have someone bring me in immediately. I was not about to let the old guy drive me all of the way to the medical center and HH worked about 45 minutes away and had a big job interview that day so I decided to drive myself. When I got there I was sent to have a fetal stress test and the technician tried to make small talk but she was looking pretty worried and rushed off to give the results to the doctor. I was taken to a room and the doctor came in and told me that I was having regular contractions every 4-5 minutes and that they were going to be admitting me to the hospital. That was one of the scariest days of my life. I was all alone and worried about my baby who was nowhere near ready to enter the world. I new all of the statistics about premature births. My younger brother was premature and I remembered everything from that. I wanted that baby to stay in.

I was wheeled over to the hospital and admitted into Labor & Delivery. While they were trying to find a vein for the IV, I was busy trying to get HH on the phone so that I could tell him what was going on. He rescheduled his interview and came up to the hospital to be with me. Talk about being freaked out. We both were. They put me on magnesium to stop the contractions and gave me the steroid shots to help the baby’s lungs develop. It was very touch and go for a couple of days. I was eventually moved out of L&D and into the antepartum wing. I was on bedrest that entire week and would remain on bedrest until it was time to have the baby, the goal was a month.

A few weeks into my bedrest I ended up back in the hospital with a gallbladder attack. Talk about miserable. After a couple of days in the hospital that time I was sent home on a bland diet. The baby was still not growing very well so the decision was made to induce 1-2 weeks before his due date if I didn’t go into labor again before that. The week before the induction I was to take heparin injections 2 times a day since it has a shorter half-life.

I was admitted into the hospital for the induction the night before. The morning of my induction the doctor started the pitocin at 8 am and broke my water. I wasn’t even 1 cm dilated at the time but that baby was going to be born that day. Because of the blood thinners, I couldn’t have an epidural until after noon that day so before that they managed my pain with narcotics. Pitocin and water-breaking when not dilated at all does not make for an enjoyable experience so I don’t want to hear any crap from anyone about my narcotics use during labor. I watched TV and visited with people and was pretty much agreeable other than the fact that I was starving. No one was allowed to bring food in my room. About 1 that afternoon I got my epidural and then I was definitely in heaven. The pitocin was cranked up and I was slowly dilating. My doctor was supposed to come by around 5 or 6 to check my progress so HH had been hanging out in my room waiting. By about 6:45 he was dying of thirst and needed some air so he went downstairs. Of course that is when the doctor comes by and guess what? I was ready to have the baby. My husband is downstairs with his phone turned off, the doctor and nurse are holding my legs up and telling me to push and I am yelling at anyone who will listen to go get my husband, NOW. I think I had about 3-4 contractions (pushes) before he got back to me. I would say that within 3-4 more contractions, the baby was born. He just popped right out. Less than 30 minutes of pushing. Though, he only weighed 5 lbs 9 oz.

So, to conclude for now, within 1 1/2 years I had graduated college, moved out on my own, got married, bought our first house, got pregnant, had a baby and been through two jobs. A lot of changes in a really short amount of time.

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