Six months after marrying my love of 6 years, he suggested that we start trying for a baby! After picking my jaw up off of the floor, I bounced over to him and said, "when do we start?!!". I had wanted a baby forever, even before it was physically possible for me to become pregnant! I was about to graduate with my BA in a month and a half, and I was ready to start our family.

Mark and I began trying in the same month that I was to graduate. I just knew that I was going to get pregnant right away. On the day my period was to come, there it was. I can't think of another time in my life, when I was more sad than that day. I went home from work, my husband met me at the door, hugged me and said well, here's something good and handed me a large envelope. It was my university diploma. My parents came over and we all sat around, I had a shot of tequila to stop my horrible period cramps. Several months of trying came and went. We were on a trip, several hours north of us to Mark's sister's house for an autumn celebration...my period began, once again. My cramps were worse than they had ever been before! Mark went to check us in to the hotel, and so sweetly he got us a room with a jacuzzi tub. I walked, doubled over, to the room, jumped into the tub and rested for several hours in the hot water. While Mark went to see his family, I stayed in the tub and prayed to God for a baby, so that I could have a break from this terrible pain.

A few weeks later, expecting my period again, in a few days...I felt strange. I was craving a huge steak from the Outback but I was so tired and working at home over the weekend. Mark went out to get me a takeout steak. I ate the entire thing! I thought that this was a bit strange, since I hadn't eaten much meat in quite a while. The next day, we went Christmas shopping and made a stop at the dollar store. While walking around among the crowds we came across dollar pregnancy tests. We thought that the concept of that was hilarious! I bought a few and we went home. As soon as we walked in the door, I went to try out this funny, old fashioned, pee in a cup, drop 4 drops from the tiny pipette, test. I sat and watched the test and after a few seconds, it had one very dark control line and a very faint test line...I thought I was imagining things. So I walked out and told Mark don't get your hopes up, but I think I see a line. We went about our day. The next morning, I skipped off to the bathroom to take the more expensive, brand name test. I waited for the lines to come up...and there they were! I was finally pregnant! I ran out of the bathroom and jumped onto Mark, sleeping on the bed still. I yelled, "WE DID IT!! WE DID IT!!". He grabbed me and held me in his giant arms and we just lay there staring at the test.

A couple of weeks passed and I walked the stage for my summer graduation. The next day we celebrated our first anniversary. A few days later, we went to our first OB appointment. We got to see our little one for the first time, just a tiny dot with a fluttery little heartbeat...amazing, I was 6 weeks pregnant, due August 15th, 2004! Then came Christmas Day (7 weeks), my eyes flew open and my body darted out of bed because of the most horrible nausea I had ever experienced in my life. I threw up all day! I smelled everything, even people's breath...disgusting! I was hopeful that the sickness would only come and go. It didn't happen. It got worse. I was vomiting day and night. After 10 days of throwing up, I called my OB and asked if there was anything that they could do for me. They prescribed Zofran for me (which is a powerful anti-nausea medication given to chemo-therapy patients). It sort of worked, not really though. I quickly began to lose weight, my hair began to fall out and my skin was at it's worst. Poor Mark couldn't come home in the evenings without changing his clothes and brushing hs teeth within moments of walking through the door, I could smell his lunch on him...even 6 hours after him eating. I tried everything to make my body stop throwing up all of the time, eating lemons (which makes for painful vomiting later on), eating mints, eating ginger, the Zofran, crackers...nothing really worked. Mark and I went to our next OB appointment and I explained to her, what was going on, as I ate my semi-frozen grapes. She was sympthetic, explaining that she had the same problem with both of her pregnancies, Hyperemesis Gravidarum. She said that no one knew why a person gets this but prescribed me more medication and added a digestive aid so that I could digest what I was able to eat, more quickly.

At 12 weeks, I was ready to kill myself. I had lost 20 lbs, I couldn't eat anything and I was vomiting even the water that I was drinking. I dragged myself to my car and drove myself to my OB's office. The nurse came out and took me to the back. She checked me for dehydration, which turned out to be severe (my urine looked like dark iced tea) and I was spilling ketones. I had bruises under my eyes from vomiting so hard and so much. She sat me down in a chair in the hall while she went to get my OB. They both came back and I begged them tearfully, "please do something for me". My OB said, I can give you a medication that will make you sleep all of the time and you can rehydrate at home, or I can admit you to the hospital. I thought it over, and since Mark's birthday was the next day, i opted for at home rehydration (I look back now, and think that I should have gone into the hospital, so that he wouldn't need to take care of me on his birthday). Before I was going to leave, she asked if I wanted to check on the baby and hear his heartbeat. I said yes and as we walked into the room I was partially hoping that she wouldn't find anything, so that this would all be over. Feeling guilty for what I was thinking, I waited for her to find his heart tones...it took a while but there he was, strong as ever. I walked out of the office feeling terrible for even thinking that I didn't want her to find my baby. I called Mark from my car, sobbing, apologizing for even thinking what I did. He supportive as always, saying that it was okay to feel the way I did, it was understandable. He met me at home and I went to bed and slept while he went to the store to get my prescription of Phenergan. My mother came over and started his birthday dinner and I took my medication...and slept. Mark would come in, as instructed, and wake me every 2 hours, to drink some gatorade. I slept for a countless number of hours. The next day, I felt slightly better, but needing to still take the meds...I was slightly annoyed with having to constantly sleep.

Everyone told me that at 3 months, I wouldn't be sick anymore. What a lie! Seventeen weeks after the beginning of my sickness, I was feeling better. Five and a half months into my pregnancy, I was finally able to be happy about being pregnant! At the same time, I was able to enjoy my tiny belly and the tiny baby bouncing around inside of me.

Mark and I began to study the Bradley Method of childbirth, after much research on the subject. I was concerned with first, not using any medication in labor and birth and secondly, that Mark would be VERY involved in the process of birthing our child. I did not want him to be pushed off to the side at all. In our studies, we learned the truths about birthing in the hospital and began to feel uncomfortable with the thought of having to surrender to the hospital staff and their "policies". We went to the OB for our first extended ultrasound. From the beginning, we were calling the baby "she". As the tech was jiggling the little one around, she finally got around to see the sex. Mark and I had discussed whether we would find out what it was, he said no and I said I really needed to connect with the baby after being so resentful of it making me sick. So he said, okay, we'll find out. It's a BOY! We were shocked! Mark welled up a bit...and I was in shock! It was wonderful! After the ultrasound we met with the OB and discussed our concerns about the hospital and said that I really liked the idea of a homebirth but I knew that it was probably safer in the hospital (lying through my teeth to her, I knew that homebirth was safe...it was just not feasible to our budget to pay very little for a hospital birth, since we had insurance, than pay a great deal to have a midwife, since our insurance would not pay a midwife). She agreed that it wasn't safe for the baby to be born at home and suggested that we go on a tour of the hospital on one of the scheduled weekends. We said that we would. The next weekend, we went to the hospital for the tour. We waited for and hour standing by the nursery listening to the nurses act very condescending toward a father who came down to ask where his baby was, as it had been over 2 hours since they took her away to the nursery. This put us off a bit. After the long wait and no one really knowing what was going on, as if they had never known about a schduled tour happening in the hospital, we were led up to the maternity unit by a very annoyed labor and delivery nurse. She led us through the cramped nurses station to a tiny, supposedly "revamped" labor/delivery/recovery room. Mark was behind me as I walked with the group into the room. As soon as I set my feet in that room, I whirled around and said to Mark, "I AM NOT DELIVERING HERE!". He looked a bit shocked for just a moment, and then as we walked out into the hall with the group, I whispered to him, "let's leave". During all of this, one of the fathers asked, so what happens after the baby is born, the nurse responded with, "well the father might be able to go to the nursery with the baby, not all of the time". I was shocked, Mark leaned over to me and said "no one is telling me that I can't go with my baby anywhere!" So we rode the elevator with the group, and stayed on when they all got off at the next floor, waved to them as they watched us in confusion, and went back downstairs to the lobby.

I cried the entire way home. I had no idea what we were going to do. In the middle of all of this, we were also looking for a new house and had only saved up for that venture, not for anything else...like a homebirth. Mark mentioned that I had spoken once to a midwife, before we had conceived. I looked at him and said, "we can't afford that!" It would cost us about $1800. He said, why can't you just deliver at the hospital. This question irritated me beyond belief. I said, "you know how little girls have 'dream weddings', I didn't have that, I could have cared less about how my wedding went. I have always dreamt of how I would have my babies!". I didn't want to have to fight with a nurse about how I would labor, or if my baby would get to stay with me, I wanted to have a nice, peaceful, gentle birth and then go home. I knew that would not be possible in the hospital, as I knew too many nurses (friends and family) and they have very strong control issues. He was in awe. We sat in the driveway of our house and he said, "well, then I want to give you your dream! Figure out how to make it happen. I don't care how much it costs, you will get the birth you want!" By this time, I was in awe! I don't think I have ever heard a more encouraging statement come from that man.

We went inside and I immediately went to the internet to find a midwife for more information. I found two, one was more willing to attempt to help us out, so we decided to go with her. She asked us to meet her and her partner the next weekend. We met, and it was love at first meet. The discussion of the hospital birth came up, Mark sat with his huge arms crossed and described the hospital tour. He said, " no one is going to tell me when I can and cannot have my baby!". The ladies understood exactly where he was coming from. After leaving the meeting, we decided that they would be our midwives! I was more relieved than ever!

Then next month the ladies came to our house for our first prenatal. They checked me, and checked the baby, even teaching us that what we usually hear in the OB office is the cord beating, not truely the baby's actual heart beating. They showed us the difference...it was amazing, they actually took the time to get my baby to turn the right way for them to hear his little heart beating.

Six weeks before I was due, we decided to take our last trip as just a couple...we went to the beach with my parents and siblings. BIG MISTAKE at that late in the game. The salt water made me so swollen that I couldn't put my pants back on. Then to top it off, Mark decided to take a so-called "short cut" home. It was the bumpiest road ever...making my contractions come fast. It was killing me. We got home and I went straight to bed!

A few days later, we were closing on our first home. We moved in right away. Poor Mark had to do nearly everything, as I was almost completely worthless to help move anything.

At the end of the month my braxton hicks contractions (which started months ago) got a bit more intense. I was about two weeks from my due date. Our midwife came to check on us and said that we should get things prepared for the birth. That evening, we did my belly cast. While in the process of casting my big belly, I started to contract pretty heavily. I told Mark that we should go to the store to get the last few things (food, etc) for the birth. We went to Walmart and bought a few things. I just knew that that night I would have the baby! I was a moron to even get my hopes up. Later that week we went to visit with the OB and I asked her to check to see if I was dilated. After she painfully checked me, she said that I was about 2 cm dilated. I knew that it was going to be soon. After days of tiny, painless contractions...I was sick of waiting...see Liam's Birth for the birth story.