First time mom
Updated: May 26, 2019
I know, I know, I got you all hooked on my story and left you hanging for a few weeks. Truth be told, I’ve been dreading writing this part. Telling my story in such detail has been greatly therapeutic for me, but this has been a part of the therapy I wasn’t really ready to address. Nevertheless...
My pregnancy with my oldest was nothing short of difficult. At the start, my nausea was never ending, but I couldn’t actually ever throw up. I also could not eat very much. As soon as the nausea subsided around 3 months, the headaches started. Pounding, dreadful headaches that I of course, not knowing better at the time, treated with Tylenol. When those stopped around 6 months, the contractions started. Real, measurable, painful contractions for several months straight. The shot didn’t stop them. Pills didn’t stop them. Fortunately, they weren’t productive, but that should have been my first sign.
In the midst of this, around the end of my first trimester, we got the “joy” of dealing with the workman’s comp fraud department. You see, Anthony ran a roofing business. It was the prime time to be in the business as two major hurricanes came through back to back years and most of the area needed new roofs. There also was no shortage of workers. However, many were not legal workers.
I had told Anthony many times that he would get in trouble if he continued to employ illegal workers. He told me I was stupid and didn’t know what I was talking about...his typical response to shut me up and control me while feeling superior. After 3 years in business, it all finally caught up with him. He had been knowingly employing them while they used someone else’s social security numbers. He also had been paying them cash for most of their hours so he didn’t have to pay workman’s comp on them. The fraud department came through to assess all of our records and see just how much he owed them for back pay, and report him to the state. He hadn’t been keeping good records, so we spent many hours in the office sorting through the mess. He still hid as much as he could to get in less trouble.
The stress of the audit did not help my already difficult pregnancy. I know many people had far worse pregnancies, but after having multiple kids, I can EASILY say that his was by far my worst. This all made it even moreso. My mom was terrified that I would miscarry from the stress, and said so often. I won’t lie, I was a giant ball of worry and stress. After the initial audit, I made it through alright, but Anthony was facing a court date and major fines.
When my contractions started at 6 months, I got put on modified bed rest. I could get up, but I got told if it hurt, don’t do it. Everything hurt, so I didn’t do much. In addition, we had an active hurricane season that year, and I could feel my contractions get worse every time the barometric pressure dropped. It made for long nights. I can remember asking my doctor about a caesarean towards the end of my pregnancy. Labor terrified me, and I was already in so much pain that I didnt think I could handle more. Looking back, I wonder if it was prodding by God, because as non-crunchy as it is, ceasareans were far easier on my body. It was probably also largely to do with the fact that I wasn’t mentally ready for birth. Either way, she convinced me to have natural labor, and we ended up scheduling a date to induce since I’d had contractions for so long and hadn’t dilated at all.
Towards the end of my pregnancy, Anthony started an evening job as a bouncer at a local piano bar where I had cocktailed a couple years earlier. His business had taken a major hit with the audit, and we were still waiting on the results and court date from that. Our bills were piling up and I couldn’t exactly work while on bed rest. So off he went for a night job. It is there that he met Jennie.
To be continued...