My Pregnancy and Birth Story

Hi blog-o-sphere! It’s been a while since I logged on and put “pen to paper”. My last post was almost 2 years ago. Yikes. And my my, a lot has changed since then. I left my job at a non-profit organization and started a new position with a retailer. My husband and I moved out of our one-bedroom apartment and into a condo with more space. With the start of the pandemic, we learned to navigate the changes and challenges it brought on. I gained a brother-in-law and a niece. Oh, and I got pregnant and had a baby.

It’s so interesting how everything fell into place. My husband and I were beginning talks with my OB/GYN about fertility and I was becoming discouraged that getting pregnant wasn’t as easy as the movies (and high school sex ed) made it seem. My doc wanted to start at why my periods were irregular by doing a dye test in my fallopian tubes and I was put on medication to induce a period. This was late November.

Early December, I finished the medication, but my period never came. This should’ve been my first clue that something was up. I went in for blood work to test my hormone levels (again checking to see why my periods were irregular). A few days later, I got a call from my doc saying my prolactin levels were high. Prolactin is the hormone that helps promote breast milk. This should’ve been my second clue. I still didn’t suspect pregnancy and, apparently, my doc didn’t either and they sent me to an endocrinologist to see why my prolactin was high.

I remember driving to the endocrinologist and hearing a random song on the radio made me cry. I had also been ravenous that entire week. Again, more clues pointing towards something I wasn’t expecting. At the appointment, I sat nervously waiting for the doctor. Would they tell me my hormones were way off and I needed treatments? I already had all sorts of questions and wasn’t sure if I wanted the answers to some of them. The doctor walks in, looking slightly confused. After explaining why I was there to see her, she pointblank says, “Ahh, so you’re here for fertility reasons? I wondered why they would send a pregnant woman to see me.” I blinked at her slowly and re-iterated that I wasn’t pregnant. I let her know I had just finished medication my gyno prescribed and thought maybe that could be why my hormone and prolactin levels were showing as they were. She had me take another blood test to be sure and I left the appointment with really no more helpful information than when I had arrived. Except for the inkling that something was different…why would she make that comment about thinking I was pregnant? I didn’t feel pregnant. Plus, the gyno had already taken my blood work. Wouldn’t they have seen my HCG and prolactin levels were similar to that of a pregnant woman? But, on the drive home, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story.

Once home, I waved to Stephen and quietly slipped upstairs since he was on the phone for work. “Let me just take a quick preggo test to see…”, I thought. “I’m sure it will be negative like all the times before.” At this point, Stephen had come upstairs to see how my appointment went. As I relayed the (confusing) details, I took the test and prepped to set it on the bathroom counter. With the other tests I had taken before, I would usually cover the test with the wrapper or more toilet paper so that I didn’t peek at it before the 3 minute timer was up. But before I could even set it down, a second line began to appear. I was sure I was imagining things. Within seconds, the second line got darker. I’m pretty sure I yelled at Stephen, “Oh my God, I’m pregnant! Oh my God, I’m pregnant. It says I’m pregnant!” Because I had read tests wrong in the past, Stephen didn’t believe me. He grabbed the test stick and the packaging to figure out the results. But it was there, that second line, as dark as can be.

We both stared at each other, wide eyed and shaky. I scrambled and called my gyno’s office. “Ummmm, hi, I just took a pregnancy test and it’s positive, but I just finished a medication your office prescribed. Could that cause a false positive to show?” The nurse spoke with my doc and confirmed that the medication wouldn’t cause a false reading on the test and that I was very likely pregnant. As I’m sure most people are when they find out they are expecting, Stephen and I were in shock for the rest of the day. I had him buy more tests so I could test again in the morning, just…to…be…sure. And that digital test gave me a big “PREGNANT” result. I cried in the bathroom.

My doctor scheduled an early ultrasound to ensure all was well thus far. Stephen and I hid our little secret for two weeks and decided to announce to our families on Christmas that we were expecting. During those two weeks, my pregnancy symptoms started. I was EXHAUSTED and starting to get extremely nauseous. I started getting this nasty taste in my mouth and headaches began persisting. I was not feeling great, but I reveled in the fact that we’d soon be sharing the great news with our loved ones.

Come Christmas morning, I felt sicker than usual, but also due to the fact that TODAY was the day. I was so excited to tell our families we were having a baby. Because Stephen’s family is in New York, we broke the news over video chat. His mom screamed with joy and it felt so nice to have someone other than us know. Later that day, we drove to my parents’ house for dinner. In an effort to get a good picture before we stuffed ourselves with delicious food, my sister suggested taking a family photo. This was the perfect opportunity…I handed my phone to Stephen and asked him to take a picture, but, in reality, he was recording a video. Instead of saying, “Say cheeeeeese!”, he said, “Saaaaaayyy Juana’s pregnant!” My family laughed and assumed Stephen was joking. Then, I turned and confirmed the news and the announcement sunk in. It’s so fun to watch the video back and see each family member’s reactions.

Ohhhh, pregnancy. Such a joyful, expectant time. A time filled with baby room plans, name selection, and hope. A time also filled with nausea, tiredness, and a rapidly changing body. My nausea and sickness lasted well into my second trimester. I was miserable! While pregnancy is certainly a miracle, I won’t sugarcoat that having your body turn into an incubator is ROUGH! I was exhausted all the time and couldn’t keep any food down. Water tasted like sewage and my pregnancy hormones had me crying at every little thing. Finally, midway through my second trimester, I started regaining my energy and appetite back and my bump started growing. Stephen and I slowly started turning our second bedroom/office into the baby’s nursery. At 20 weeks, we found out we were having a little girl! The days counted down to baby girl’s due date. We agreed on her name and decided to keep it a secret until she was born. Summer came and me and my bump lounged by the pool. I celebrated my 32nd birthday. We had a small baby shower and started receiving lovely gifts. My belly kept growing…and growing…and growing. Once I hit the third trimester, we wondered how big our baby would be. Because I’m so small (I’m only 5 feet tall) and my husband is 6’7″, it was a toss up as to how big kiddo would actually be. It became hard to sleep. I was up most hours of the night trying to get comfortable. Not to mention the constant need to pee. I thought pregnancy couldn’t get anymore uncomfortable. HA! I was wrong.

In the last couple weeks of pregnancy, I hoped for a comfortable time. One Sunday morning, Stephen woke up to me crying in the bathroom because I had developed a headache and severe jaw pain overnight. I dealt with the pain and hoped it would get better. The next morning, it was WORSE. I called my doc and they recommended I head to a walk-in clinic. They assumed it was TMJ. I went home and hoped Tylenol would help. I woke up the next day to an even worse pain…tooth pain. The only thing that would help was sipping ice cold water, which likely meant I had some nerve damage. The pain was EXCRUCIATING. I called my dentist and got an emergency appointment, at which they confirmed I did have nerve damage and needed a root canal. They found an endodontist who could fit me in within the next hour. My dad drove me over and I waddled in as fast as I could. After the root canal, I was so happy to be pain free, but seriously, who has to get a root canal at 9 months pregnant? Not fun! But, I thought the pain was over. HA!

That same night, I started getting bad back contractions which landed us in labor and delivery triage. I wasn’t dilated enough, so they sent us home. Then, the rash started. An ugly rash. An itchy rash. And it started to spread. First on my backside, then down to my thighs and legs. Then, upwards to my arms. When I tell you it was itchy, that’s an understatement. I woke up crying several nights in a row because I would start scratching in my sleep which would just make the itching worse. During the day, I sat on ice packs to help. I Googled my symptoms and assumed I had PUPPPs rash, which can develop late in pregnancy. It’s not harmful, just annoying. But, at my next prenatal appointment, my doctor wanted to rule out cholestasis of pregnancy, which can cause bile to build up and can be dangerous for the baby at birth. My doc ordered blood work to make sure and confirmed I still wasn’t dilated that much, so baby girl was staying put for now. Or so we thought.

A few days later, while typing some emails for work, I received a call from my doctor. Knowing they typically only call when they need to discuss something serious, I picked up right away. The doc confirmed my blood work showed I did have cholestasis and they wanted to induce me right away. After hanging up, I shouted for Stephen and broke the news. Within a half an hour, we were on our way to the hospital. We had a last minute ultrasound to confirm baby girl was doing ok and then we headed to the labor and delivery unit. We were having a BABY!

I got dressed into the hospital gown, got hooked up to the IVs, and was started on the meds to induce labor. I got my epidural and we played the waiting game. We napped on and off. I drank broth, sipped water, and watched Tik Toks to pass the time. The doc and nurses came in to check my progress every now and then. 3 cm dilated, 4 cm dilated, 5 cm dilated, 6 cm, then 7. And I stopped at 7. For several hours. Because you have to be 10 cm dilated to begin pushing the baby out, we couldn’t progress in delivery. Baby girl’s heart rate was slowing a bit and she wasn’t descending well into my lower pelvic area, which would be optimal for vaginal delivery. So, the doctor recommended we switch plans and move towards delivering via c-section. We agreed and thus began the process of putting in more IVs, administering anesthesia, and wheeling me into an operating room. It was happening. We would get to meet our baby soon.

I was overwhelmed. And also out of it because of the anesthesia. I remember thinking, “I won’t be pregnant anymore!” and wanting to cry. After getting me situated in the OR, they let Stephen come in and sit beside me. They started the c-section. It was so bizarre knowing I was getting cut into while being awake. And that I would be meeting my baby soon.

And at 12:57 that afternoon, I heard little Charlotte’s cry for the first time as she entered the world. Well, hello there, Charlie.