The day came in late July for the anatomy scan. I was somewhere between 19 and 20 weeks along. Because of the nontraditional approach we had taken to prenatal care, we had to schedule with an ultrasound office in another city. This was very different from our experience with our first baby. With that pregnancy we were living in Colorado, and everything was run through a doctor’s office in a big, nice hospital. The ultrasound office we found ourselves in Texas this day was in the back corner of a random lot in an industrial part of town. The building smelled slightly mildewy, the carpet was old and worn, and the couches we waited on were obviously well used with cracks and smears. I remember seeing a young girl with an anklet monitor on the couch next to us and wondered why she had to wear it. Was she a criminal? I felt very out of place.
James, Andi, and I waited about 20 minutes in the small waiting room and then were called back to a large room with a big ultrasound machine and giant TV screens everywhere. There was very little light for better viewing of the screens. I was directed to a medical chair in the corner and told to lie back and get comfortable. James and Andi were in chairs on the other side of the room, with the ultrasound machine taking up the biggest spot in the middle of the room.
The ultrasound operator was an older man named Victor. He was friendly, as most people are in Texas, and asked Andi if she was excited to have a baby brother or sister. She half-smiled and rolled her eyes, a really fun new skill she had picked up recently and used far too frequently. She had been asked this question over and over by people who knew about the pregnancy, and often in response she would sigh and say, “Why does everyone keep asking me this?” But she was sure she would have a sister and voiced this surety to anyone who asked.
I was nervous. My initial negative reaction to the old area and crusty couches wasn’t helping. Most of all, I just wanted to hear good news about the baby growing inside of me. Everyone wants to know if you want a girl or a boy, and I had said repeatedly to friends and family that I just wanted a healthy baby. Of course a healthy baby would be ideal, but the truth was that I really wanted a boy. We had our girl, and I was very vocal about my dislike of pregnancy, so I thought if we could get us a boy then I could call it quits on any future pregnancies. But, I was careful to voice what I hoped for. If the baby I was growing was a girl, I didn’t want her to feel like she was unwanted by hearing her mother say she had hoped for a boy. James told me many times how silly this notion was, but to me it felt legitimate.
Victor sat at the giant machine in the middle of the room and began scanning my belly with the little magic wand and the cold jelly. I was trying to remember to breathe normally. I wasn’t particularly comfortable as I was lying back a little too much and craning my neck to get a good look at the giant screens in the front of the room. The thought of hearing bad news with Andi there was also stressing me out. But with every measurement, Victor announced the number to be normal, and with every “normal” that I heard, I felt more and more at ease.
Finally, Victor said, “Any last guesses for a girl or boy?” He was about to reveal the gender. We laughed uncomfortably as anticipation grew. The screen flashed to show two little legs and a lump in between. “A penis!” Victor announced. “It’s a boy!”
Andi could not hide the shock on her face, but she took it in stride. “It’s a boy,” James said to her, “I know you wanted a sister. What do you think of a brother?”
“Well,” she paused, “I was just teasing you when I said it was a girl. I actually wanted a boy.” She was not about to admit that her guess was wrong. Later, I found out she told James in secret, “Maybe the next baby can be a sister for me.”
At the same time Andi was feeling shocked and maybe a little annoyed at the announcement of a brother, a wave of relief had rushed over me. A boy! A healthy boy! I couldn’t believe my luck. I started to tear up thinking of how my days with my only girl were numbered, and how different raising a boy would be.
I left that building with a few pictures in hand and a whole head full of nerves about what having a boy would be like. Despite the nerves, I was excited. The baby was healthy, just like I wanted! It was smooth sailing from here on out. Now I could say I got my girl and my boy and I would never have to bother with the whole pregnancy thing again.
How perfect.
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September 2022
The months went by and we got settled back at our home in Utah that fall. I had transferred to an office of rotating midwives that delivered in a hospital rather than a birthing center. I signed up for a birthing class online and learned how to have a successful natural delivery. My time in Texas with Jean as my midwife opened up my mind to the possibility of a natural birth and I was determined to have this baby as naturally as possible because I felt confident it would be my last. I voiced that it would be my last baby to many people, often saying, “If we have a third baby it will be an accident.”
I had so much fear around pregnancy, birth, and newborn care. Fear has been a friend of mine ever since I can remember. And though having a baby does take a lot of work, why was I so afraid of it? Why couldn't I see the beauty in creating life? Where was my gratitude for the opportunity to create and be a part of an entirely new and unique person’s existence?
On Sunday, November 20th, I woke up to some fluid leaking. Initially I thought I had peed myself in my sleep. Peeing randomly while pregnant is not uncommon especially as the baby grows and puts more pressure on the bladder. I was also drinking tons of water because I felt incredibly thirsty all the time, and because my online birth instructor had mentioned drinking water was one of the best things to do before delivery. But I was three weeks away from my due date. It couldn’t be my water breaking.
Once I realized it was not pee and my water had, in fact, broken, I poked my husband. I had to poke him pretty hard to get a mumbled, “What?”
“Babe, I’m pretty sure my water broke,” I said through gritted teeth. My nerves were ramping up.
James shot up out of bed and was somehow on his feet in a matter of milliseconds. “Ok, let’s go! Where’s the bags?” I was impressed with his ability to be ready to go just seconds after being woken up.
“I mean, I know my water broke, but I’m not having contractions so I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know the rules about this.”
“Call Kenze.”
Kenze is a Labor and Delivery nurse. We grew up together in my hometown of Salina, Utah. She is one of my oldest and closest friends, always one of my biggest supporters in life. She works at a different hospital than the one I would be delivering at, but her knowledge through my pregnancy had been such a huge help. It was around 6:00am.
“Hey Kenz, sorry I’m calling so early.” There was a tremble in my voice. I was nervous and unsure of what to even say. I was sitting uncomfortably on my bed on a towel. Labor is nerve-racking as you really never know what could happen.
“Hey, it’s okay. Is everything alright?”
“Ya everything’s good, but I’m pretty sure my water broke, and I’m just now realizing I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to go to the hospital? I’m not having any contractions or anything.”
“Oh! Baby time! That’s awesome. Yes, they will want you to come in for sure. You don’t have to rush over there. Just take your time getting ready and getting Andi taken care of and head over in the next couple hours.”
“Okay, thank you,” the tremble still there, “I’ll let you know what happens- talk to you soon.” I hung up and we began getting things ready. I was going through my pregnancy class notes in my head, wondering when early labor would begin, then active labor. I felt disappointed that I couldn’t labor at home and instead had to get to the hospital because my water broke. We gently woke Andi and took her to the neighbor’s. I remember feeling grateful it was a Sunday morning so our neighbors were home and not at work. We let some family know we were on our way to the hospital, and James made a social media post about it being “baby time.” Our lives were about to change, a little sooner than the December 10th date that we had memorized.
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