Saturday, January 24, 2015

The Reaction

When I found out that against all odds, I was unexpectedly pregnant at the age of 44---with NO medical intervention whatsoever, I was in complete and utter shock.

In case you're wondering, a reproductive endocrinologist confirmed that the odds of this happening to ME was LESS than one percent.  Did you get that? I said NOT.EVEN.ONE.PERCENT.....Now, hold the fort while I run out and buy a lottery ticket. Yo.

After I left the doctor's office, I drove to work to share the news with my husband. I wasn't sure how I was going to tell I was going to get the words out...because all I could do was sob uncontrollably. I was overcome with anxiety and fear.  The conversation I'd just had with that jackass doctor kept playing in my head and I was worried sick about what was to come.

Would I be able to carry this baby to term? If I did, would my baby be healthy? Would my cardiac health worsen during pregnancy? Would I die during childbirth and never get to see my "miracle" baby? Was I just too old? How would my husband react?

I found out the answer to the last question soon enough.

When I got to work, I calmly walked into my office, hung up my coat, met my husband's glance through a window in the production area, and then? I.TOTALLY.LOST.MY.SHIT.

I ran into the bathroom, sobbing and heaving, like a complete maniac.

He followed me.

I can't remember exactly what happened next because I was basically incoherent, even to myself. But, finally, through my heaving and hyperventilating, I said...

Me:  Oh. My. God. You are not going to believe this! I'm...I'm...I...I...Um...I...The doctor said...I'm...Oh my God....

Hubby:  What? You're what? Are you sick? Are you okay? Is something wrong?

Me:  *heaving* I'm pregnant! 


Me:  Did you hear me? I said I'm PREGNANT.

Hubby:  *hugging and squeezing buckets of snot out of me*  Okay! Calm down! It's okay! This is great! GREAT! Just think! We'll get to go to baseball games! Or tea parties! THIS IS GREAT!

Me:  Baseball games or tea parties? WTF is wrong with you? What kind of a reaction is that?

Hubby:  THIS IS GREAT NEWS!!!!!!!! IT'S AWESOME!  Don't you see? NOW we'll have someone to take our driver's licenses away when we start to drive like ASSHOLES!  

Me:  *still sobbing* But, you already drive like an asshole...

Hubby:  Ha! Don't worry. Everything will be fine. We're in this together. We can handle anything that comes our way. It's going to be fine. Believe me. This is going to be GREAT!

Me:  *still sobbing* We'll be THE OLDEST parents on the playground! WE'RE OLDDDDDD!!!!!  *heave, heave, heave*

Hubby:  We're not old!  We're hip....and cool!  Please don't worry. We'll always have each other!  AND, after the baby is born, if you want---WE'LL GET BOTOX!  Okay? Please calm down, Sal. Everything is going to be fine. Trust me.

Me:  *heave, heave, heave* Okay....

And that, in a nutshell, was how our most amazing journey began....


Monday, January 5, 2015

You Dropped A Bomb On Me, Baby---The Gap Band, 1982

I found out that I was pregnant in late September 2013.

The day started out like any other ordinary day. I had a midday appointment with my gynecologist because I wanted to get some information about the Depo-Provera shot.

Since January, I had had super unpredictable menstrual cycles and I was tired of not knowing what the hell was going on with my body. I had discussed my irregular cycles with my doctor earlier that year and he flippantly said something like, "Don't be worried. You're 43. Your hormones are changing. It's probably peri-menopause."

Awesome, I thought. Here comes the damn mustache.

Because I had recently returned from a cruise to Bermuda and spent almost the ENTIRE trip wrestling with Aunt Flo (ugh), I was annoyed. A couple of weeks after I got home, I read somewhere that by getting the Depo-Provera shot, you could halt your monthly cycle completely. Immediately, I knew that pending the side effects of said shot, in accordance with positive input from my doctor, that THAT was likely the road I was going to take until full blown menopause decided to rear its ugly head (or hairy chin…whatever).

When I arrived at the empty doctor's office (Yay! THAT never happens!), a young lady quickly took me into a receiving room where she checked my blood pressure and my weight. Then she handed me a plastic cup and told me to go take a pee.

When I got back from the bathroom, I handed her my cup o' urine, sat down, and began checking an email that I'd received on my phone (It was a work day). When I glanced up, I noticed the medical assistant looking at me oddly. Three times, I watched her peel this strip thingy out of a paper wrapper (like a band aid), dip it in the urine sample, take it out, study it, then glare at me.

Suddenly, she jumped up and said, "Um….Mrs. Costa, you can come with me." Then, she led me into the doctor's office, where I sat and continued to read my emails.

Within minutes, this doctor, who I'd never dealt with before (and never did again after this day), walked in, shut the door and leaned against the counter. Nonchalantly, He blurted, "I'm Dr. I-Think-I-Walk-On-Water. Your doctor is no longer with this practice….Also, there's no other way to say this….You're pregnant."



Me:  OH, F*CK!

Doctor:  Hehehehe…..

Me:  *sobbing* Oh, my God! I'm sorry! I'm an educated woman. I don't know WHY I said that! Um…But, this is impossible…I mean there's NO way….

Doctor:  Mrs. Costa, YOU ARE PREGNANT. From what I can gather, you're due date is May 10th.


Doctor:  Because you are of AMA (Advanced Maternal Age), I'm going to schedule genetic testing ASAP…just in case….


Doctor:  Well, just in case you need to make some timely decisions.


Doctor:  Also, I wouldn't tell anyone, except your husband, just yet. AT YOUR AGE, you have a very high risk of miscarrying.

Me:  *sobbing* Oh my God. I can't believe this….

Doctor:  Stop at the desk on your way out and they'll give you an appointment for a sonogram. Any questions?

Me:  *ugly crying* Unrelated, but, yeah…...Do you have any children?

Doctor:  One. Why?

Me:  If you don't mind my asking, why did you only have one?

Doctor:  Well, by the time my wife and I decided that we might want another one, she was already 44…and that's just too damn old! BAHAHAHAHAHA!

Me:  *sobbing* BASTARD.

Later that day, after dropping the F-bomb and calling him a bastard, I switched doctors. 

I never saw that a-hole again. 

True story.

***Stay Tuned for Part 3***

Friday, January 2, 2015

I'm back! And this time? I'm not alone. Yo.

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Last year, I decided to take a blogging hiatus when I found out that I was unexpectedly pregnant. I needed to sort things out in my head a bit and felt like I wanted to do so privately (READ:  MELTDOWN). If you know me at all, or even if you don't, I was the chick who never really made having children a priority. I always sort of had it in the back of my mind, often pondering my child-free status as the years rolled by, but I never truly pined for children. The conversations I had with myself were more like, "I'm almost forty. My biological clock must broken. Hmmm...I wonder if I'll ever regret not having a kid?" 

Looking back, I think my reluctance to commit to having a baby stemmed from a few things.

First, my husband and I were (are) happy. We weren't THAT couple who felt like we needed children to feel complete. We know people who've had children thinking that THAT would fix whatever was missing in their relationship (They're divorced now). Not us. We never felt like our lives were fractional and we really enjoyed our time alone and being a family of two. Wouldn't having a child just screw up our zen life?

Even so, out of a sense of obligation, I remember reluctantly asking my husband--right after I turned forty--if he wanted to have a child. I think the conversation went something like, "Look, dude. I'm forty and we need to make a decision here. If you want to be a Dad, I don't want to deprive you of the experience." He looked at me and responded, "If you're good, I'm good." WHEW, I guiltily thought. I totally just dodged a big ass bullet right there.

Second, I am a woman who constantly craves independence and alone time. As a matter of fact, I'm going to go one step further and admit something to you all. Most of the time, I am downright antisocial. Since I was a kid, I have always enjoyed being alone more than being with people. How the heck could that characteristic ever translate to my being a decent parent? I wasn't at all interested in finding out. Trust me.

Finally, and this is going to sound really odd and immature y'all, but it is what it is….

I am not a fan of pain. 

I know, I know. Who is, right? 

Um. I'm being a bit more extreme here, folks. 

You're probably unaware of this little factoid, my friends. But, I am probably one of the only women you know who doesn't even have her ears pierced (and I NEVER will). Tattoos? Piercings? No, friggin way. I'm way, way too wussy for that. So, the thought of pushing a human out of my vagina or having one cut out of my gut? Yeah, if I even tried to give that shit some extensive thought, the anxiety alone threatened to kill me.

So, you can imagine my conundrum, when at the ripe old age of 44, after totally ruling it out and intricately planning out my child-free future and early retirement (Hahaha…yeah, right!)---I found out that I was pregnant. 

I was shocked, worried, scared, nervous, and extremely anxious. 

I was also convinced, beyond a reasonable doubt, that I was living proof that Jesus had a sense of humor.

Well played, Jesus. Well played.

***(Stay tuned for Episode 2)***