Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up to be a wife and mother. That was it. No dreams of a career or traveling or anything like that. I just wanted to be a wife and mother. So when we were trying to get pregnant, and the months started passing, it was very hard for me. As a matter of fact, when it did happen I almost didn't believe it - well, I didn't believe it!
This was before the days of accurate home pregnancy tests. There was one home test out there - EPT - and it was not very accurate. You had a test tube and a little stand. There was this bottle of chemicals and a little cup to catch your peepee (ewwwww - messy!). First, you put water and the chemicals in the test tube and place it in the stand. You had to be careful to place it in a level place that would remain undisturbed during the test. Then you pee in the cup (and all over your hand), take a little dropper-full of peepee, and put two or three drops into the test tube. Then you had to leave it alone for 30 minutes. 30 MINUTES!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT??
Anyway, at the end of the test, if a little circle appeared at the bottom of the test tube - like a ring around the bottom - then the test was positive. If not, then you weren't. Back in the olden days, a woman had to wait until her period was 2 weeks late before she could take the test or it wasn't accurate. And even if a home test was positive, the doctor didn't believe it and sent you for a blood test to be sure. The damn blood test took 24 hours to get the results.
So here I was, two weeks late for my period and VERY EXCITED!!! I ran out to the store and got a home pregnancy test. Performed the whole piss-on-the-hand thing, drop the piss in the chemicals and then wait the seventy-five hours (30 minutes) before I could go check the test. No ring. Damn! Another month gone! I moved the test into the other room to show my husband. I put it down on the counter, and we went out for the night. When I got home, there was a ring at the bottom of the test tube. I figured it was because I moved the damn test around. I didn't even mention it to anyone, just threw it away. It was a Friday.
When Monday rolled along and still no appearance of the period, I called the doctor. He sent me for a blood pregnancy test. Now I had to wait 24 hours for the results. I called Tuesday afternoon to check the results. I remember clearly how the woman on the phone sounded. She asked my name, asked me to spell it and then hummed a little tune while she looked down the list. She said "Positive" but said it with a little pause after the first syllable, like Poooooooooooooosative. I was soooo excited! I ran into the other room and told my husband. Then, the worst thing happened.
I started to think I imagined the whole thing. She must have said NEGATIVE and I just heard POSITIVE because I wanted to be preggers so badly. Then I did a silly thing. I called back. I tell the chickie I am checking on the status of a pregnancy test and give her my name. She says to me, "didn't you just call?" and, of course, I lie. No, I tell her, I didn't and who did you give my results to???? She shut up about me calling before and confirmed that I WAS PREGNANT!!!!
Every minute of the pregnancy was a wonder for me. I loved being the host for such a magical thing. A new life was growing inside my body. I felt like I was the only person in the whole wide world who had ever taken part in the miracle of life. No one had before me and no one would after. I relished every part, every pound, every stretch mark and gas pain. There was nothing I did not welcome. The outcome was worth all that and much much more.
I remember so clearly going to the doctor on my birthday of June 28th. It was my 22nd birthday and I had an appointment. My mother-in-law, God rest her soul, had to drive me. I was due on July 16th and had toxemia. I couldn't drive. Anyway, she drove me and as I was walking up the stairs into the office, I tripped. I fell flat on my face/stomach. I mean, I SLAMMED down!! The first thing I did was to hop up and check if anyone saw me. They didn't. I went into the office and they called me in right away. That never happens! I sit and the nurse took my blood pressure. Of course it was through the roof. She gets into a panic and calls the doctor. He comes in and says I have to go directly to the hospital. I had to admit to them that I had just fallen directly on my face not two minutes before. They calmed down some and had me rest for a few minutes. The nurse took my pressure again, and although it was elevated, it wasn't alarming.
The doctor was still concerned about my toxemia, though, and told me that on Monday, July 1, 1985 I should go to the hospital and he was going to induce my labor. I was so excited! Monday came and off we went. We sat and sat and sat. Apparently there was a drop in barometric pressure or something; but a bunch of women came in that day in active labor. My inducement was pushed off and off until it was too late to do it that day. The doc decided to keep me in the hospital overnight because of the toxemia.
God decided that Tuesday the second was the day for me. I began labor on my own that night at 2 am. I stayed up all night embracing each gentle pain as it guided my baby into the world. I was like, "Oh, another contraction!!" It was a beautiful time for me and my baby. It was just the two of us and no one was around. When morning came and I informed the nurses that my labor had started, everything was rush rush - get into a labor room, stick in an IV, get me into a johnny coat, take off the panties, stick fingers up me to see how far along I was, and all that good stuff. Apparently it was not going fast enough for the doctor; because he started me on pitocin (a drug to induce or speed up labor). Then he broke my water.
Let me tell you something. The contractions that I was embracing were gone. What replaced them were piercing pains that began in my back and crawled slowly around to peak at my navel. I was sure I was bleeding all over the bed because I felt as if I was being stabbed across my abdomen. That was not happening, of course; but it felt like it was to me. I began to think that there was no way I could handle this intense pain. I was going to die. Panic set in. All of a sudden, it didn't seem like such a good idea, this 'being a parent' thing. I changed my mind and didn't want to do it anymore. So I pulled out the IV (blood squirting all over) and got up to leave. The next thing I remember is the nurses pushing me back into bed, a sharp pain in my thigh, a prick in my back (isn't that what got me into that situation??) and then all went black.
The next thing I remember is the nurse waking me up telling me it was time to push. I slept!!! Now pushing was no picnic either; but at least when I was pushing I wasn't in pain. It took over 2 hours to push this skinny, scrawny chicken out of my body.
She was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. She was pink and her little eyes were blinking up at me and I never knew I could love someone so much. She was placed on my stomach right after she came out and I remember not even caring if she was a boy or a girl. It just didn't matter. Here was this perfect, precious life that we created wriggling and crying on my belly. She had my heart. All I wanted to do was hold her forever. I was the happiest woman in the world.
Even to this day, Stephenie continues to bless my life. 20 years later, and I am still madly in love with her. I thank God every day for placing her in my care and just pray that I am doing his gift justice.
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