Early February I am getting ready for a night on the town. I have washed my favorite jeans and tank top and have my hair and nails all sexed up. My jeans feel tight; this will depress me for most of the night. For some reason I am not in the party mood anyway. The beer tastes like bog water, and I wind up heading home early. This is a strange month, everything is off. My favorite foods are less than desirable, I am sleeping particularly good (did I mention I am a diagnosed insomniac?), I am gaining weight, I am moody....I become suspicious.
Saturday, February 28th, I wake at 10am and tip toe to the bathroom and dig out "The Test" and do the deed. I proceed to the kitchen to make my tea and then smoke a few cigarettes waiting for the result. I couldn't be. I am 27 years old, I am a newlywed, I haven't taken my honeymoon. We weren't trying. The doctor said it would take longer than this. I just bought a brand new computer system with kick a$$ party speakers. I have no room for a crib. I don't even like babies. I've never changed a diaper...5 minutes have passed.
I crush out my cigarette and make my way back to the bathroom...think calm thoughts...there it is, sitting on the sink staring back at me. 2 LINES!!! I sat down on the toilet and just flipped the stick over and over in my hand...well now...this does change my summer plans doesn't it? I was cool and collected, numb and very white! I wake my husband (of 5 months) and say, "look in the bathroom"...he says, "Oh, so we're going to have a baby, huh?" I fall apart.
We go to the doctor and he offers the text book CONGRATULATIONS. Then he bombards me with 1001 questions. "Was this planned?" NO. "Will you be keeping this child?" Ummmmmm YES. "Do you know who the father is?" HELLO??? "First pregnancy?" YUP. "Do you smoke?"...silence...bows head...YES!! He sits back in his chair and looks at me. "Well, you'll need to quit TODAY!" Oh yeah, sure, today, of course, make it sound a little easier. We went home and Paul says while smoking a cigarette, "you have to quit!" I agree and light one up.
A week and a half go by and I cut back significantly to about 10 a day. A grand accomplishment for me but not enough I understood. I was more embarrassed than ever to be a smoker now but of course I kept on smoking.
On Thursday, March 12th, 2003, I got up for work at 10am, and before I lit my morning cigarette, I went to use the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, I am in emergency and the doctors and nurses are thick as thieves and Paul is sitting there holding his head. I felt like I was hit by another car. I felt no physical pain, but my heart was twisting and aching, and dear God, there are no words for that day. I am 7 weeks pregnant, and I am losing my baby.
When I went to bed last night, I was wondering if I was ready to be a parent. Pondering if this was really what I wanted. Suddenly, in that moment in the hospital bed, I realized it was too late to choose. I am already a mother. I cried so hard that I lost my breath and Paul stood by me silent and still, and rubbed my hair back over and over again. One nurse said " Sweetie, there will be other babies"...Other? I wanted THIS one. I began, trying to make deals with the big man upstairs. Dear God, I will be a better person. I will curb my temper. I will be more patient. I will stop swearing. I WILL STOP SMOKING FOR AS LONG AS I CARRY THIS CHILD...please don't take my baby.
