When I first got pregnant, my husband and I were so excited. We are so glad we decided to have a baby, our little Samantha. Of course we were like everybody else. When a couple plans to start a family, they get all observant. And if one little symptom shows up, you think you are pregnant, so you take a test, just to find out that it’s negative, or maybe even a false positive. Then you feel let down, and you want to give up. It feels like it’s been forever. So you start all over again next month anyway, just to be let down again. Until finally you are blessed. It took us three months, and on January 23rd, we finally got a positive. (She was born EXACTLY eight months later.) We were on the phone when we found out.My husband was so nervous and I was speechless. All that day we were so elated. Nothing could get us down. That very same day, I went home with my husband and we told his parents. They FLIPPED! I mean they turned cartwheels and back flips and just not good. They yelled so much for so long I thought my ears would fall off, if their mouths didn’t first. When we went to tell my Mom it was much calmer, a nice change of volume. Although, it still wasn’t a pleasant experience. From then on, we began preparing. Well, I already had been. We wanted a girl. I had already bought some clothes though. I continued to shop for girls’ clothes and boys’ clothes though. I bought games and toys. I bought everything you would need. The Daddy, as responsible as he is, got a job. He hated that place, Wendy’s Fast Food. I told the school’s nurse. And it was fortuitous that our school had parenting class, county programs, and a daycare-all for pregnant teens. I continued working on everything as usual. Except I was always sick and I ate constantly, dry cereal mostly. I had occasion doctor’s appointments, which Dad attended with me. And we got out first ultrasound in March, a day before my birthday. I was 13 weeks and she was 3 inches long, roughly. In April, after my little brother was born (March 28th) my husband moved in. (Yes, my Mo was pregnant at the same time.) I was about four months. By the end of the school year, people started figuring things out. I was eating all during class and I was getting a little bigger. Plus the dead give away was your ultrasounds on my binder with my name on them. All during summer break we REALLY got ready. The Tuesday after school let out, we found out we were having a girl. I was a little over 20 weeks. But I was a little upset because we didn’t find out before school let out. I wanted to spread the news.
The rest of the summer, I continued to visit the doctor, more often by now. I got the room, ready and cleaned, cleaned, cleaned. I LOVE cleaning! Of course I went yard saling, thrift storing, and I had my baby shower. My first day back to school? Well, it was pretty bad. When I came back, I was HUGE. This is when things got worse. Everybody could tell and I got those…stares. These looks said, “What?! the-and Figures.” And I’m really sensitive, and by then, just imagine. I came crying daily because people would say things, mean things. But it was all worth it, and more. And I knew it would be. So, after about a week of stares, people got used to it and instead hounded me with all kinds of questions. They’d ask me when I was due? Boy or girl? Am I excited? Is it hard? Do I still get sick? What if my water broke at school? And the most unique one, or daring might I say, “Do you still have sex?” Well, one day, I had an appointment and they found protein in my urine. I was gaining much weight and swelling REAL bad. So they made another appointment for that Friday, our school’s Home Coming night, and my last day at school for awhile, because he decided to induce.
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