I can remember a certain January morning like it was yesterday. I was upstairs, just having picked up a blue and white stick, and I was in disbelief. I called my husband’s name to see where he was in the house. He responded from down in the living room and I made the quickest trip down the flight of stairs I have ever done before.
“What does this say?” I asked my husband pointing the stick in front of him.
“Ya, what does that say?” he replied back.
I looked at the stick again and read the word “pregnant.” My husband and I hugged and cried. It had finally happened again for us.
Then came of the flood of emotions: happy, nervous, excited, worried, etc. What should we expect this pregnancy? Would everything be alright with the baby? How would I try and remain calm?
My husband and I didn’t tell immediate family members right away this time. I waited about a month before I shared the news with my parents. They were so happy. If they were nervous they didn’t show it.
The pregnancy was going as routinely as possible. I had food aversions (no bread, pop and ground beef), nausea and fatigue. At 10 weeks, the same time my last pregnancy I miscarried, I had some spotting. That night all those previous thoughts came back. I thought to myself “not again” and “what I am doing wrong.” I didn’t sleep well that night.
The next morning I called my doctor office and spoke with a wonderful nurse. She spoke with a doctor at my clinic, who promptly set up an ultrasound for me that morning and a visit. My heart was racing the entire wait until I got into the ultrasound room. I felt that if something was wrong I wanted answers. The ultrasound technician was nice, reassuring and tried to make me feel comfortable. The ultrasound began with my husband and I looking a screen with my name on it. The screen then flipped over to the ultrasound. The technician told us the flickering we were seeing was the baby’s heart beat. My husband and I shed a some tears of relief and joy. I was looking at our baby, who was only about an inch and a half long. After that, I started calling the baby “Peanut” because of how tiny it was. The doctor said I had a subchorionic bleed and my body was making room for the baby and there was nothing to worry about. That was the best news ever.
Spreading the news of the pregnancy was easier after that. My sisters and their families found out, as well as my husband’s family. My husband and I brought a cake over to my sister-in-law’s house that announced the pregnancy. Our nieces and nephews were so thrilled to be getting a new cousin.
The first time I ever felt Peanut kick I was around 17 weeks. I had been waiting for that day. It was a little flutter at first and then like a bubble popping. All I could do was smile. Peanut moves a lot throughout the day, and right now, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
My only wish is that I was able to eat a couple big meals throughout the day. Instead I have to eat several small meals and snacks throughout the day. But that’s a small price to pay and I can handle it. My only cravings are macaroni and cheese, chocolate, ice-cold water and the occasional several pieces of pizza.
Now I’m half way through the pregnancy and things are right where they should be. Peanut already loves food and music, and lets me know that with a kick or punch.
Last week was the ultrasound to find out the sex of the baby. My husband and I found out, but are only sharing the gender with those that ask. My dad and some aunts don’t want to know if Peanut is a boy or girl until he or she is born. My husband and I are just happy that Peanut is health. That is all we could ask for.
Come September my husband and I will be welcoming our Peanut into the world and I can’t wait. I am also grateful for the family and friends and other people in my life that have continued to keep my husband and I in their thoughts. I’m sure Peanut appreciates it too.
Contact Alicia Miller at [email protected]