When I was about 31, I got into my head that what I wanted was to have a baby. My husband and I had been married 3 years and my biological clock was banging in my head. I had a lot of problems before that withendometriosisthat necessitated countless laser surgeries equaling loads of scar tissue, and a great deal of pain. Because of that, getting pregnant wasn’t as easy as I had imagined it would be.
I took my temperature, took drugs to make me ovulate, and drugs to make me stop. I was all out of whack. Finally after months of trying, I hit the jackpot. I was pregnant, and my husband and I were over the moon with happiness. From the moment I became pregnant, I was constantly sick with nausea, vomiting, and diarrhea. If a stiff breeze blew on me I would toss my cookies. I was completely miserable but at least I had a good reason. I was going to have a baby, and I couldn’t wait.
One day I heard the heart beat for the first time. Then came the unmistakable butterfly movements and the growing belly. When I was just past 5 months, I began to spot. My doctor immediately put me on bed rest and scheduled an ultrasound. I was so excited because I was going to see my baby for the first time, and if I was lucky discover its gender. I eagerly drank what seemed like gallons of water to prepare for the ultrasound and felt like I would explode if they so much as touched me.
I remember laying down on the table, feeling the gel they spread on my belly, and peering at the monitor searching for my baby. The technician was silent as she focused on the monitor. After a while, she patted my hand and told me she would be right back. I laid there oblivious. She came back carrying a telephone and told me my doctor would like to speak to me. Seemed a little odd at the time, but I had never had a baby before, or an ultrasound…so I didn’t realize this was a very bad sign. He cut right to the chase and broke my heart with the unsuspected news that my baby was dead. The sobs that spilled from me shook my whole body as the technician tried her best to comfort me. The doctor told me that the only way I would ever have the chance at a healthy baby was to remove this one as soon as possible. I agreed to the surgery to be scheduled in a couple days and went home devastated.
With the loss of my baby, I lost the desire to become pregnant. I quit taking the pills to make me ovulate and taking my temperature. I went on with life trying to forget, knowing I never would. Six months later, I was pregnant again. This time, I refused to get my hopes up and to believe that history wouldn‘t repeat itself. Even after I became noticeably pregnant and felt the baby kick often, I still couldn’t believe that this baby would survive through my gestational diabetes and high blood pressure. I was terrified it would die like the first.
Because of all the scar tissue, I was scheduled for a cesarean section. Right up to seconds before I was wheeled to the operating room, all I wanted was to have whatever it was that was making me desperately sick out of me. I wanted the pregnancy over with. I was tired. I was terrified, and certain that even though this baby appeared normal and fine that at the last minute it would die. I am 5 foot tall and at that moment, I resembled the blueberry girl in “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory”. You could have placed me on my side and rolled me around. I desperately wanted to be sent to the juicing room and be squeezed till I was thin again. HA! You would have thought all that peeing would have done the trick.
I had a daughter! She was beautiful, and better yet…she was alive and healthy. The nurse brought my newborn over to me. She was screaming at the top of her lungs until I spoke to her. She immediately stopped and looked at me, and I dissolved into tears of amazement and happiness. I remember thinking at that moment that I was witnessing what life is truly all about.
With my daughter’s birth, I conquered and overcame my fears of being pregnant and coming out with a broken heart. Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
It’s my life, one day at a time with attitude. Isn’t it amazing that when you are a kid, even a teenager…your head is full to overflowing with dreams and big plans which include being rich and famous, the happily ever after, and the whole enchilada. I was no different than any other teenager. I had the world by the a$$ and had it all figured out, or so I thought.
I graduated near the top of my class. The next four years were planned out. I was off to college, off to conquer the world, off to make a life for myself. It was going to be a great life. Then I went off to school and it did not turn out quite like I planned. I realized after a few short months that my heart just was not in it. I struggled. It turned out, it really was not where I belonged. I was homesick from the onset and drove 8 hours home every weekend. Since I was in Nashville, Tennessee my mom could not resist having an excuse to spend time at theOpryland Hotel , visit, shop, and hang out whenever she could sneak away from home.
When my dad called up one day and told her she had to go home and deal with the leaves, I grabbed my a$$ and all my possessions, quit school, and went home too right behind her. Just like that. I remember being afraid to confront my Dad about quitting school. It was to late to get any refund. He came into my room and sat down on my bed, and was silent for a few minutes. I was bracing myself for a real telling off, when he shocked me by saying…”Well, since you are home and not doing anything else, how would you like to go to Disney World??” Excuse me?? Sphincter says what??? Can I get a “Hell Yeah!!!” ?? Needless to say, my folks were the epitome of cool and deliciously unpredictable.
I gave up all sense of planning the day my mother’s kidneys failed, and when she was diagnosed with multiple myeloma we began living each day as if it were her last. The day came when it was her last and all to soon, she was gone. In my overwhelming grief, my life whirled out of control, lost meaning, and direction. I quit planning and dreaming. It was an effort to get from one day to the next. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I went to work, and came home. I mourned, and did it well. Eventually my body rebelled. I developed a bleeding ulcer, lost oodles of weight, and after I collapsed at work, my family doctor sat me down and told me I had to get a grip. My mom wouldn’t want me like this. Slowly I returned to the land of the living determined that I would never hurt that badly ever again. Seems like I had no control over that either.
When I first became pregnant, I was caught up with the excitement of a new baby. I allowed myself to plan again with excitement. I had heard the baby’s heartbeat. I had felt the baby move. Then one day I went to have an ultrasound. The technician left me and came back with a phone saying my doctor wanted to speak to me. Over the phone he broke the news that my unborn baby was dead. My world shattered. My life fell back into the one day at a time pattern. I vowed no more plans, no more dreams, no more trying to get pregnant. I was done. I was prepared to take each day as it came and to quit hoping for tomorrow. Much like Scarlett O'Hara, I swore not to think about that now...I would think about that tomorrow...or never if that was the way things went.
As fate would have it, I was eventually blessed with a husband that I adore and two children who have become the light of my life. I have had homes, and lost them. I have lost even more family members to deaths unyielding grip. Today I accept it as part of life. I live my life searching for everyday blessings,wisdom, and invariably find humor and good in most everything. I no longer look past tomorrow, it is just enough to get through today. It’s my life, it’s now or never, one day at a time. Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
I have never been the most graceful person in the world. Even on an average day it is normal for me to careen around corners like a bat out of hell leaving humongous bruises on my arms because I cut the corner entirely to short in my rush. I even managed to give myself a concussion simply because I lost my balance once when I got up in the night to pee, effectively falling and banging my temple on the headboard of the bed. That little catastrophe put me out of commission for a month.
That is why only G0d himself could explain why when I was bigger than a house pregnant with my daughter that I decided to encourage my husband to rent a canoe to take out on the lake while we were camping. Before I go any further, canoes are tipsy little things in the first place.
Their overall construction would tell a normal person with even a shred of common sense that an overly pregnant lady shouldn’t even attempt to get in to one. Even a skinny athletic person with a reasonable amount of balance can find that a canoe is a bit tipsy. Looking back, I can’t even explain what my motivation was. We rented the canoe , put it into the water, and prepared to get in. It was at that illuminating moment I realized that my overly pregnant body might not be able to handle getting in or getting out of a canoe. While my husband held my hand to balance me, I carefully put one foot into the boat. The canoe rocked violently and with a scream I clutched at my husband with both hands terrified that I was doomed to take a plunge into the lake. I had simply not taken into account that being pregnant would completely throw off my balance. Live and learn I guess.
Even all these years later I am still not a good judge of my own ability to balance. A while back while at the store I leaned over this huge box filled with bags of potatoes in the hopes of snagging one to add to my shopping cart. I found out the hard way that the cardboard box wouldn’t hold my weight and I fell face first into the potatoes laughing my fool head off as I sprawled spread eagle. It turns out it is a lot easier to fall into potatoes than it is to scramble your way back out. By the time I managed to crawl out, several other shoppers were gawking and snickering at my display. I bounced up and dusted myself off trying to maintain my cool and failing miserably. I couldn’t quite pull it off, because I couldn’t stop laughing. That poor box wasn’t quite as strong as I thought it would be.
One of these times I may just achieve perfect balance. It isn’t bloody likely, but it could happen. Occasionally a moment of insanity hits and I dig out my Wii Fit board and take on the Yoga balance challenges. Even that is laughable, because the only way I can get through them is to hang onto a kitchen chair. So yes, I cheat at Wii Fit. I admit it! It is better than falling on my face, and that perfectly poised avatar doesn’t know the difference. No harm, no foul.
At this point in my life I have accepted that I am a klutz and have very little if no balance. Some people are perfectly comfortable traipsing about on a tight rope, a balance beam, or riding a unicycle. Sadly, I am not one of those people. All I can do, is sit by and watch silently thanking the good Lord that I survived another day without ending up in traction. I have accepted the fact that I was not put on this earth to amaze people by my ability to balance my a$$ on the wind. For those amazing feats, you will have to look to someone else. However, if you are looking for a dazzling star for America’s Funniest Videos, then I am your girl!!
On the upside, I have noticed that life as I know it is getting easier to balance as I grow older. Perhaps there is hope for me after all!! Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
Two years after I got married I finally got the itch to have children. I have come to the conclusion that I am not the norm. Most people have the baby first, live together, and then maybe get married after the second or third one comes along. Some don’t get married at all and continue to populate the earth with random people.
Since I hadn’t quite determined why I was on the planet yet, I figured maybe motherhood was it. Certainly I was old enough to embark on the adventure of parenting!! My biological clock was ticking so loud it was literally vibrating the sticky goo between my ears most folks assume are brains. So I chucked the old birth control pills and the husband and I went at it. After a while, I figured out it was a lot harder getting pregnant than I thought. I didn’t understand it. Teenagers who had no business getting pregnant had no problem, then there was me. It was devastatingly depressing. I took pills to make me ovulate, pills to make me stop, and I was living on a calendar and thermometer timetable. Time to take that temperature soon was followed by time to get naked!! Finally I did manage to get knocked up. I was over the moon and sick as a dog. Unfortunately I lost that baby and I never looked at pregnancy as a warm and fuzzy happy condition again.
My Daughter's First Halloween
When I finally got pregnant again, I was cynical. The pain and grief that clouded my first pregnancy always made me fear that history would repeat itself. The day my daughter was born changed my life forever. Here was this perfect little girl screaming her head off. The nurse brought the baby over to me and I spoke to her. She looked into my eyes and instantly stopped crying! She KNEW me! She recognized my voice, and I was filled with the most overwhelming sense of love that I have ever felt in my life. In that moment, I knew I was experiencing exactly what life was all about. It was like a bomb had been dropped on me. After my dad died that irritating clock began it’s annoying ticking again. I was approaching 40 and my OB/GYN was advising that if I ever wanted another baby I better get crack a lackin‘. He advised to have one more, and then have a hysterectomy due to all the problems and surgeries I had faced in the past. I was dragging my heels because as much as I loved my daughter, I just didn’t know if I could face 9 solid months of hugging the toilet again. Saying I don’t do pregnancy well is an understatement. If I could go from conception to c-section in a day, that would be another story entirely. 9 months of unmitigated hell was another thing all together.
My Son's First Halloween
One night, my husband looked at me and asked if we needed to worry about birth control. I remember saying no. In the back of my mind, I knew it was time to either $hit or get off the pot or forget about having another baby entirely. I figured I had no worries. After all, look how hard it had been to get pregnant before!! I couldn't possibly get pregnant after one time, right? Let us just say that it only took that once and nine months later I had a precious baby boy to call my own. When my 4 year old daughter discovered mommy was expecting she wanted to go get the baby the next day. Sorry sweetie, it takes a little longer than that! His birth was just as overwhelming and awesome as my daughter’s had been almost 5 years before.
I love my kids. They are what my life is all about. Their births were like an earth shattering bomb in my life that instantly gave my life purpose, happiness, and hope. Even though they are much bigger now, they will always be my precious babies, my precious miracles. From that moment on, my life was changed for the better. Until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.
That is why only G0d himself could explain why when I was bigger than a house pregnant with my daughter that I decided to encourage my husband to rent a canoe to take out on the lake while we were camping. Before I go any further, canoes are tipsy little things in the first place.
