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So, now I'm pregnant! That's fantastic, right? That's what all the affirmations I'd been doing had been sending out into the universe and it happened! YES! Except I hate being pregnant or so I learned...
To read click: part 1 and part 2.
Hubby and I are ecstatic except whoa wait what happened to the honeymoon phase? Ugh, yea, that's gone - because I no longer have control over my body. The requisite 12 weeks pass and we go to the doctor's appointment. I am 36 by the time I see the doctor.
To some, 36 seems ancient to be prego; to others, you're still a spring chicken. NOT according to the doctors that is. Due to my age, we are informed we have to go and see the special geriatric prego doc and get all these extra special tests. To be called geriatric at 36 is horrifying. Yes, I have wrinkles; yes, I've put on some extra weight but GERIATRIC???
WOW - self-esteem shot and then the terrifying thought: "crap, am I really putting my baby in harm's way because I waited SOOO long?" The only uptick - you get lots of ultrasounds initially even the 3D ones and get to see all sorts of need stuff in these.
Fortunately, I do not have bad morning sickness, I'm not super hot - my temperature actually gets regulated, and overall pregnancy is "easy" except it's JUST NOT FOR ME. I dislike every moment of it. I don't feel dewy and beautiful; I don't feel in control, and my emotions are highly erratic.
Oh and then there's also this stupid trial still looming over our head. Our court date is scheduled to be in October. We're also moving mid-October to my family's farm which will be rent-free. The trial is delayed because one of the plaintiff's is expecting a baby. It is rescheduled for the first week of December.
Did I mention I changed jobs in the fall too? Here's the sequence of events:
So, now I'm pregnant! That's fantastic, right? That's what all the affirmations I'd been doing had been sending out into the universe and it happened! YES! Except I hate being pregnant or so I learned...
To read click: part 1 and part 2.
Hubby and I are ecstatic except whoa wait what happened to the honeymoon phase? Ugh, yea, that's gone - because I no longer have control over my body. The requisite 12 weeks pass and we go to the doctor's appointment. I am 36 by the time I see the doctor.
To some, 36 seems ancient to be prego; to others, you're still a spring chicken. NOT according to the doctors that is. Due to my age, we are informed we have to go and see the special geriatric prego doc and get all these extra special tests. To be called geriatric at 36 is horrifying. Yes, I have wrinkles; yes, I've put on some extra weight but GERIATRIC???
Fortunately, I do not have bad morning sickness, I'm not super hot - my temperature actually gets regulated, and overall pregnancy is "easy" except it's JUST NOT FOR ME. I dislike every moment of it. I don't feel dewy and beautiful; I don't feel in control, and my emotions are highly erratic.
Oh and then there's also this stupid trial still looming over our head. Our court date is scheduled to be in October. We're also moving mid-October to my family's farm which will be rent-free. The trial is delayed because one of the plaintiff's is expecting a baby. It is rescheduled for the first week of December.
Did I mention I changed jobs in the fall too? Here's the sequence of events:
- Memorial Day Weekend - Get Prego 👶🍼👼
- September 1 - New Job 🆕
- October 15 - Moving Day 🚚🏠🏡
- Thanksgiving - with his parents; then drive to DC and have to see mean girls
- First Week of December - Trial 👨⚖️⚖️
Needless to say, we had a lot of $hit going on and I was pregnant. Miraculously, my husband and I made it through without either knocking the other out, but it was tough. The crying, the uncomfortableness, and I COULDN'T DRINK! Now, drinking is a bad way to cope but sometimes well you just want a drink.
Starting the new job was less than ideal. The HR manager was not there my first day so I was let in, shown to my office, given my email password, and that was it. When I check my email (it's through Gmail - like uses the interface), there wasn't a welcome email from my boss in Paris. It was totally empty. No instructions, nothing. So, I read through the employee handbook (useless for job purposes) and then go and talk to customer service and the print guy to try and get some idea of what was going on. Although very friendly and nice, they didn't have any idea about my job either. The print guy told me one interesting thing though: apparently, I was going to a trade show in 2 weeks and needed to book a room and a flight. He gave me the travel agent's contact info and he told to search google about our industry to try and get a lay of the land. I booked my flight and hotel and read on the internet for the rest of the day.
An announcement of my arrival did not get sent out until September 9th which was my first communication from my boss period. He also asked if I would be available to go to Paris for a week and a half in October which is awesome...except we were moving Oct 15 and I was pregnant. Nothing much more happened in terms of communication until I saw him at the trade show. Even then, other than understanding the market was the only guidance I was given or the only deliverable I was told to deliver. I knew there were some serious issues when I discovered that no one used meeting requests to schedule meetings. You also never knew when the bosses would just show up in Charlotte. It was all haphazard and all I heard from anyone was that our quality sucked, our service was awful, and no one had any thoughts or ideas on how to fix except to complain.
Then, on the first of December, we go to the trial. I'm emotional, fat, and anxious. I had to ask my parents would come down for the trial. I needed the emotional support; plus, my mom knows these girls and she can be scary. Got to love a good death stare. I mean, what if the jury doesn't believe my husband? What if these mean girls have created false evidence? The number of what if's running through my head was insane. We go in on Monday and the jury is picked. Our trial is delayed for 2 1/2 days. We don't actually get into the courtroom until Wednesday afternoon. We get through some preliminaries, but the real trial won't begin until Thursday morning. Are you kidding me?? The waiting was enough to kill you in and of itself. I had a baby to prepare for, a job to really begin, a house to get in order, and I'm waiting for the courtroom to be available. WTF!
Thursday comes and it begins. The struggle of sitting still, being quiet, being pregnant and uncomfortable, and having former friends lie on the witness stand about your husband fondly them after his head was bashed in was beyond describable. They went through texts between "our friends" recounting the events and it was all fake. The allegations being thrown around about both of us was unnerving particularly with my mom sitting beside me holding my hand. Your mother hearing your husband had basically grabbed all her female parts - how do you handle that; how does your mother? Then, I was asked to take the stand and I waddled my way up there. I was also asked about the chain of events. I simply stated, "My husband's head was bashed in and blood was everywhere. He could not walk; he could not stand; he could not dress himself; and he most certainly could not walk down the 3 flights of stairs while molesting someone; he could not even see." Fortunately, my questioning did not last particularly long, but it was some of the most awful moments I've ever experienced. The trial proceedings continued and came to a close. The jury went back to deliberate. We all sat on pins and needles. You never know who will hate a man just because someone alleges something happened. We did not have to wait long; the jury returned right before the courthouse was about to close up for the day. And, we won or more accurately, they found him not guilty on anything! Hallelujuah! We could finally get on with our lives and move forward. We'd just have some $40,000 of lawyer's bills to pay over the next decade. Just another minor layer of stress. We were living rent free after all!
Starting the new job was less than ideal. The HR manager was not there my first day so I was let in, shown to my office, given my email password, and that was it. When I check my email (it's through Gmail - like uses the interface), there wasn't a welcome email from my boss in Paris. It was totally empty. No instructions, nothing. So, I read through the employee handbook (useless for job purposes) and then go and talk to customer service and the print guy to try and get some idea of what was going on. Although very friendly and nice, they didn't have any idea about my job either. The print guy told me one interesting thing though: apparently, I was going to a trade show in 2 weeks and needed to book a room and a flight. He gave me the travel agent's contact info and he told to search google about our industry to try and get a lay of the land. I booked my flight and hotel and read on the internet for the rest of the day.
An announcement of my arrival did not get sent out until September 9th which was my first communication from my boss period. He also asked if I would be available to go to Paris for a week and a half in October which is awesome...except we were moving Oct 15 and I was pregnant. Nothing much more happened in terms of communication until I saw him at the trade show. Even then, other than understanding the market was the only guidance I was given or the only deliverable I was told to deliver. I knew there were some serious issues when I discovered that no one used meeting requests to schedule meetings. You also never knew when the bosses would just show up in Charlotte. It was all haphazard and all I heard from anyone was that our quality sucked, our service was awful, and no one had any thoughts or ideas on how to fix except to complain.
Then, on the first of December, we go to the trial. I'm emotional, fat, and anxious. I had to ask my parents would come down for the trial. I needed the emotional support; plus, my mom knows these girls and she can be scary. Got to love a good death stare. I mean, what if the jury doesn't believe my husband? What if these mean girls have created false evidence? The number of what if's running through my head was insane. We go in on Monday and the jury is picked. Our trial is delayed for 2 1/2 days. We don't actually get into the courtroom until Wednesday afternoon. We get through some preliminaries, but the real trial won't begin until Thursday morning. Are you kidding me?? The waiting was enough to kill you in and of itself. I had a baby to prepare for, a job to really begin, a house to get in order, and I'm waiting for the courtroom to be available. WTF!
Thursday comes and it begins. The struggle of sitting still, being quiet, being pregnant and uncomfortable, and having former friends lie on the witness stand about your husband fondly them after his head was bashed in was beyond describable. They went through texts between "our friends" recounting the events and it was all fake. The allegations being thrown around about both of us was unnerving particularly with my mom sitting beside me holding my hand. Your mother hearing your husband had basically grabbed all her female parts - how do you handle that; how does your mother? Then, I was asked to take the stand and I waddled my way up there. I was also asked about the chain of events. I simply stated, "My husband's head was bashed in and blood was everywhere. He could not walk; he could not stand; he could not dress himself; and he most certainly could not walk down the 3 flights of stairs while molesting someone; he could not even see." Fortunately, my questioning did not last particularly long, but it was some of the most awful moments I've ever experienced. The trial proceedings continued and came to a close. The jury went back to deliberate. We all sat on pins and needles. You never know who will hate a man just because someone alleges something happened. We did not have to wait long; the jury returned right before the courthouse was about to close up for the day. And, we won or more accurately, they found him not guilty on anything! Hallelujuah! We could finally get on with our lives and move forward. We'd just have some $40,000 of lawyer's bills to pay over the next decade. Just another minor layer of stress. We were living rent free after all!
Next - the Birth, and the Aftermath
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