One thing that I really wanted to do for the blog during my pregnancy was a series of posts that documented the differences between my first pregnancy and my second one. Well, it just goes to show how much time I had as a working, prego mom of a 2 1/2 year old.
But now that I am finding more time to blog, I thought I’d pick it back up! Plus, I wrote this story a while ago and thought it was pretty funny and still wanted to share. And now that I have had baby Reece, there are still plenty of differences between the two kiddos that I can elaborate on, so this series will live on!
Here’s the story of how I found out I was pregnant with my first child and how very different it was from the second.
Baby #1 – Fantasy Footba-by
After getting married, I said “Sayonara!” to birth control and the hubby and I decided that if pregnancy happens, it happens, and cool if it does cause we both knew we wanted kids, at some point.
Our last voyage as a couple — about a year into marriage — before actually trying to have kids, was a tour of the West Coast — Las Vegas, L.A., San Francisco and a beautiful ending in Napa Valley. Which when we look back at it, may have been the result of Baby #1. (Hey, a limo ride to multiple gorgeous wineries, wine, a pool bar overlooking the valley and an expensive dinner are a combination likely to end in baby-making.)
Fast forward a few months and I had zero signs of pregnancy. That I knew of. So a mood swing here, “I am a woman and I have needs!” Or a stomach cramp there, “Oh, that sushi must have been bad!” You could call it denial. Yes, I missed a month, but I am so irregular, that has happened before, “I’ll get it next month for sure.”
Come Sunday Funday. The in-laws are in town to watch the NFL games at a local pub, we are about to play each other in Fantasy Football and we are very, VERY competitive. Oh, and a full 8 hours of drinking delicious, refreshing B-E-E-R.
By now I had missed 2 months of my period, and there was a small notion in my head that it might be time to take a pregnancy test before I go and gorge myself on alcoholic beverages. Call it motherly instinct. I had a spare in my bathroom and before we left for the pub I decided to try it out.
Ok, pee done. Now to wait. And then — everyone is walking out the door to go watch the games and I grabbed the pregnancy test in a hurry to check the results when we get there. “No biggie, it’s probably negative.”
Table for 4. Menus. TVs. Drinks. Drinks? Uh… I better go to the bathroom first and check this baby out. Pun not intended.
“Ok Jane, let’s take a look.”
Is that a plus sign? What does that mean again?
Holy shit. It’s positive.
I need to take another one. Or two, or three. Pronto. To make sure, of course.
At this point, Brett has no clue that I even had a notion of being pregnant, and his parents are at the table with us.
Think fast. “Brett, honey, I don’t feel very good. I think we need to run up to the Walgreens to get some medicine.”
Brett could see something was wrong in my face so he hopped up and said no problem, let’s go. On the way to the car I told him what just happened. He was so cute about it, said “We can do this,” with an excited smile and gave my hand a comforting squeeze.
Well, two and three tests later in the sports bar bathroom stall, the tests were all positive. And I awkwardly sat at the bar hightop with the family, drinking a root beer float and giddy with nervous excitement for what was to come. And that is how our adventure began!
Baby #2 – Gender Fortune-teller
Baby #2 was much different. Well, completely different considering the fact that we were actually trying this time.
It was a precise and calculated approach. Making sure we weren’t victim of another surprise pregnancy when we were still trying to figure out how to take care of the first one. We were definitely careful about that.
So when there was a 2 1/2-3 year age gap between our first and our potential second, it was time to start trying. And because Brett was adamant about following the Chinese Gender Calendar in hopes for a baby boy, we had to obey the calendar. Only have sex on boy months. And when the boy month came… well, let’s just say it was a very exciting month.
Luckily we had quite a few months in a row of “boy months” so we were off to the races.
The biggest difference between finding out your pregnant and not expecting it and finding out when you are trying to get pregnant is the rollercoaster of nerves and anxiety that come with trying to get pregnant. The constant waiting and not knowing if you were successful is torturous. Waiting for your ovulation period, waiting for your period to come or not come, waiting to take the pregnancy test. And you don’t want to get your hopes up because the feeling of disappointment when it comes back negative is heartbreaking.
After a month of trying only during my ovulation period, according to my app, and not getting pregnant, I decided that wasn’t going to happen again. I know those apps are only guestimations, so we didn’t take any chances the following month. No matter what the app said we did it. It was tiring as hell!
But, thank goodness the following month when I took the pregnancy test, it was positive! And I have to say, there is nothing more exciting than seeing that plus sign appear and sending a picture of it to your husband saying “We did it!” I remember I kept the test on the counter in the bathroom for probably a week just because every time I looked at it I couldn’t believe we did it, I got butterflies in my stomach and felt like I was on top of the world.
And that’s how we got pregnant with baby #2 and how I found out!