I feel like I’m in a movie. The clock is ticking louder than it should be, the faucet is dripping, Mark is snoring in the living room. I’m hyper alert, waiting for the 3 minutes to be up to recheck the pregnancy test that had immediately showed up pregnant.
Of course, after the 3 minute waiting period the test is still positive. My stomach lurches and I take the test with me into the living room where my husband is sleeping on the sofa. I sit down next to him and place the test on the table in front of him. When he wakes up he looks at it and says “what’s this?” I swallow the urge to scream and, with tears, tell him we’re pregnant.
Today is Father’s Day.
My whole life I knew that I was going to be a mom. I honestly think that being a mom should be considered a career. But, as you can probably guess, my mom career really wasn’t supposed to be starting yet. Mark and I had been going back and forth for months about when we should get pregnant and had finally decided(more he decided and I conceded) that we were going to wait another 2 years. Well, I guess someone up there had a different plan for us.
Fast forward to week 10…I finally get in for my first prenatal appointment with my appropriately named OBGYN Dr. Finger. We go through the multitude of ridiculous “are you married? is your husband the father? is your husband your brother?” questions and get to the first of many complications. The blood disorder. To make an incredibly long story short I am a carrier of the hemophilia gene which means that if I were to have a son then there is a 50% chance that he would have hemophilia. My father was a hemophiliac and had a life time of problems resulting in an early death at the age of 54. Needless to say we were hoping for a girl.
As the weeks progressed I was working my backside off managing a retail furniture store. I had been with the company for almost five years and was NOT enjoying my time there. The pregnancy definitely made it more difficult as I was required to be able to lift 35 pounds. I also was without an assistant manager for most of my pregnancy. On top of work, I was depressed. I refused to tell anyone about the pregnancy except those that I had to and close friends. I also lost weight.
I felt a guilt that was indescribable. I didn’t feel that elation you are supposed to feel when you are pregnant. Everyone kept asking if I was excited, if I had names picked out, was I coming back to work??? All I could think about was all the women that tried so hard to get pregnant that couldn’t and here I was hating being pregnant.
At week 20 we found out we were having a boy. My OBGYN decided that I should find another doctor because she didn’t feel comfortable delivering a child that could possibly be a hemophiliac. My OBGYN my DOCTOR the person that is supposed to instill comfort and guide you through the pregnancy process DUMPED ME! So, not only am I working full-time on my feet 50 hours a week, hating being pregnant, possibly having a handicapped child, my doctor is now telling me she doesn’t want to treat me. It was great.
I found my next doctor on my own. Dr. Finger, awesome doctor that she was, didn’t give me any recommendations or referrals just kept asking me at each follow-up appointment if I had found a new doctor yet. I looked for a doctor that specialized in high risk births and was part of a big practice and located in Dallas because, oh by the way, we moved from Denton to Garland during my pregnancy. That’s when I found Dr. Chapman.