Pregnancy and Delivery

I loved being pregnant. I was blessed to suffer very little morning sickness (though the smell of vinegar still makes my sick to my stomach). My weight gain was perfect. If you would have read the classic book “What to expect when you’re expecting”, it could have been written about me. Other than those pesky 1 a.m. and 4 a.m. trips to the bathroom, there no complications. But I hesitate to call it routine or stereotypical. In retrospect, I think the reason the physical aspects of my pregnancy where to uneventful was because I was dealing with so many other emotional issues. You see, the world does tend to have a different view of the pregnant single woman. Top that off with the fact that my sister was also pregnant and it was a built in roller coaster. I’m the first to admit, it was hard not to resent her at times. She was the one to receive the congratulations from family. It was her that people wanted to have a shower for. Though I love my sister dearly and I don’t know what I would do with her both then and now, it put some pressure on. I remember so clearly the Memorial Day when my mother’s family routinely gathered for a picnic. I went through the entire day with not one word said, while my sister and her husband received the many congratulations. Most of the family knew and but didn’t know what to say. I wish I could say it didn’t hurt. But now as I look back I think that it was maybe a good thing. That I wasn’t ready and that I needed the time to toughen up.

Ok, I’ll amend my previous comment. I didn’t love being pregnant completely. By the time my due date rolled around I was ready to have this new life on the outside, not the inside. And as God has a sense of humor, I didn’t deliver my beautiful child until a full 16 days after my due date. And that was with the help of induction. I will say that the labor and delivery was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life up to that point. It was long and if I wouldn’t have been so exhausted by the end, I would have been terrified. But after over 14 hours of induced labor, I was just too tired. Then, there he was. 8lbs12oz of lungs it seemed. My mother, who acted as my labor coach commented 1st on the size of his feet and 2nd on his pointed head from being engaged for so long in the birth canal. I was so tired, that I could barely hold him. But he was here and I had done it.

I didn’t get to see him for much of that first night. By the time I got to my post partum room it was very late and given the events of the day, I fell immediately asleep. They brought him in bright and early the next morning and I just sat there and we looked at each other. He was perfect. He was what my family called a classic Strain baby. Ton’s of dark hair, blue eyes, and a miniature football players build. And a more than adequate set of lungs. That time in the hospital was a bit of a rebirth for me as well. Alexander Clinton Strain was here. I had become…….Al’s Mom……Denise