Bibbity, Bobbity, Baby!

Happy New Year!!!!  Insert ridiculous excuse here as to why I haven’t blogged for the past 7 months.  Busyness? Laziness?  Writer’s block?  Choose your own adventure.  What’s important to note is that I am back, I am blogging, and I am having a BABY!!!!  For those of you who are interested in the details of pregnancy or are morbidly curious how ridiculous I have been for the past four months, please read on.  For those of you who are not, stay tuned for a post not pertaining to babies on another day.

Background

When people found out I was pregnant, one of the first questions asked was, “Were you guys trying?”  This seems like a normal enough question, but for some reason in my head I picture two people wearing 80’s workout jumpsuits and sweatbands with a huge clock behind them, screaming “It’s baby-making time!” every hour on the hour.  Normally I am a planner and I have timelines and organizational flow-charts running through my head at all times, but this wasn’t the case with getting pregnant.  Babies are miracles from God and we knew that God’s timing was better than anything we could ever plan.  If you’ve ever watched a video on the miracle of conception, you know that it is an amazing, intricate process that only God can orchestrate. My mom reads this blog, so I will not get into the logistics of how Danny and I enjoy the benefits of our wedded bliss, and therefore it was perfectly plausible that I would become pregnant.  We were excited about the prospect of becoming parents if it was God’s will, but not fervently calculating ovulation days, if that makes sense.

How We Found Out

It was a Saturday (September 10^th to be exact), and Danny had gone to a float trip bachelor party extravaganza for the weekend while I went to a women’s conference in Nixa and a 1-year-old’s birthday party.  The day before, Danny and I had gone for a walk and I had felt really faint, but I just thought it was because I hadn’t had enough water that day.  All day Saturday I felt really shaky and weak, but I told myself it was because I drank a coffee drink for lunch and I had given up soda for the month of September, so I wasn’t used to the caffeine.  When I got home that night, I tried to talk myself out of taking a pregnancy test.  I told myself, “Allison Slone, you are not pregnant, you are being ridiculous, you’re going to waste a pregnancy test, and your husband isn’t even in town.  At least wait until tomorrow when Danny’s home to take the test.” 

Despite my best convincing, I defied myself and took the pregnancy test.  As I was taking the test, I prayed, “Lord, I want what You want.  But I also don’t want any false alarms…so please make whatever is on this test the real deal.  If I’m pregnant, let it say ‘Pregnant’.  If I’m not pregnant or will be not pregnant down the road, make it say ‘Not Pregnant’.”  The three minutes I waited for the test to process, I was fully convinced it would say a big fat “Not Pregnant”.  I told myself not to be disappointed, that it just wasn’t God’s timing for us.  When I looked at the test and it said “Pregnant”, I immediately fell to the floor and prayed “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus” over and over again.  There were no words, I was in complete shock and my husband was floating down a river with a dead cell phone battery.  I hid the test in a drawer, then went back there periodically 50 or more times throughout the night to make sure I didn’t make up in my head that it said ‘Pregnant’ and miss the word ‘Not’.  I could not sleep at all that night, so I made a sign for Danny that said “Welcome home Daddy!  Love, Baby Bean” and put it in the drawer with the pregnancy test.  I spent the rest of the night praying, smiling, and double-checking that I wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. 

The next day I went to church without Danny and sat in a room full of my close friends with a huge secret to keep.  I kept lecturing myself, “Allison Slone, you will be the world’s WORST wife if the very first person to find out you’re pregnant is not your husband.”  This time I listened to myself and kept quiet.  After church I went to lunch with some friends, and Danny met us there.  I thought I was going to explode when I saw him, but I somehow managed to keep the secret through the entire lunch.  One of our friends at lunch was pregnant and talking about working in the schools and having a separate “baby insurance” for when she took her maternity leave.  When we finally got home (we drove separate cars because Danny met us there directly after his trip), I told Danny, “Hey, I need you to come inside and help me with something.”  He said , “I think I’m going to stay out here a little while and clean out my car.”  Unable to contain myself a second longer, I yelled “You need to come inside RIGHT NOW!!!”  Scared of his monster wife, he complied.  I told him to look in the drawer, and he did.  With big eyes he turned to me and his very first words were, “But we don’t have baby insurance!”  After I slugged his shoulder, we laughed and cried and hugged and thanked God for the blessing.

Symptoms and Cravings

Everyone wants to know your pregnancy symptoms and your pregnancy cravings.  I was sure that whenever I was pregnant I would be hugging the toilet for nine months straight, only taking a break from barfing to eat chili cheese dogs covered in chocolate, but that really hasn’t been the case.  My biggest pregnancy symptoms are as follows:

1. Sleepiness.  I need naps.  I need pre-nap naps and post-nap naps.  I have been going to bed as early as 7 pm each night and sleeping as late as humanly possible.  At work I struggle to keep my eyes open the hour after lunch time, because I always tend to need a post-meal nap. 
2. Tears.  I cry at happy commercials.  I cry at sad commercials.  I cry when Danny tries to adjust the covers on the bed and accidentally takes the blanket away from me.  I cry when I see babies.  I cry when I see dads with their children.  I cry when I don’t feel like eating.  I cry when Danny talks to our baby in my tummy.  My mom says I need to “get my emotions under control”.  That makes me cry too. J
3. Nausea.  For a long time in early pregnancy, I couldn’t enter a bathroom, open a microwave or refrigerator, or even put my toothbrush in my mouth without gagging.  I have only “been sick” about 10 times total, mainly when I try to drink super concentrated healthy juice, eat a salad, or smell a particularly stinky toot from one of my kiddos I’m working with.  I have been generally disinterested in food, and had a particular aversion to onions (which I normally adore) and meat, particularly raw meat that I have to cook myself.  Poor Danny, the Slone household has had many a vegetarian and onion-free meal since I’ve been pregnant.

As far as cravings go, the only two things I have craved consistently are chocolate and potatoes in any form.  I love baked potatoes, mashed potatoes, French fries, and potato chips.  I have been striving to eat balanced, nutritious meals, but several times all I could manage for dinner was a baked potato.  Normally I like a small chocolate or two just to leave a sweet taste in my mouth, but since I’ve been pregnant I’ve had to ask Danny to hide chocolate from me so I don’t eat the entire bag.  I was hoping pregnancy would make me not such a wimp about spicy things, but I have not been very “daring” at all with spices.  I crave what is bland, what is plain, and generally what is unhealthy.  Those women who tell you to “Just listen to your body” when you’re pregnant obviously don’t have the crazy body that I do.  If I “listened to my body” all the time during this pregnancy I would now weigh 700 pounds. 

Danny’s Adorableness

I need to take just a mushy minute to talk about how adorable my husband is.  He has been a complete angel and blessing through these past several months.  He is the most attentive, sweet, PATIENT man in the entire world and I thank him for it every day.  For the first few months of pregnancy when all food repulsed me, he readily took over all of the cooking and gently coerced me into eating small meals.  When I was taking my pre-nap naps, naps, and post-nap naps, he was picking up the slack around the house by doing laundry and dishes.  When I cry for no reason, he smiles and hugs me and tells me everything will be okay.  In his first conversation with the baby, he laid out a gospel presentation.  Since then, he has sang to the baby, kissed the baby, and read a fatherly Bible passage about not fornicating.  He helps me put lotion on when I get out of the shower so I don’t get too itchy during the day.  He brings me water every night and reminds me to take my prenatal vitamin.  He has read the “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” book cover to cover, and any time I complain about a symptom, he’ll say “Yeah, the book said you might have that.”  Then he provides me with the book’s suggested remedies.  I weep when I think about what a great dad he will be, and I weep when I think about how amazing of a husband he is to me now.  It ALMOST makes me want to give in and let him name the baby Stonewall or Tecumseh or Jubil or Lowell.  ALMOST.

Trusting God

I have been completely terrified through this entire process.  When I found out we were pregnant, I was so excited but also so filled with worry.  I have had so many amazing, godly friends who have had terrible difficulties getting pregnant and heartbreaking miscarriages.  I wanted to trust that God was going to provide this blessing, but I also wanted to guard my heart.  It took four agonizingly long weeks before we had our first ultrasound to see the baby’s heartbeat.  The verse I hung over my desk and meditated on over and over again during that time was Romans 15:13 “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.”  God has been faithful despite my lack of faith.  Our initial ultrasound was a healthy little bean with a heartbeat.  One day I found out that I had been exposed to fifth disease through one of the kiddos I work with, which is not good for pregnant women and there’s a small percentage of spontaneous miscarriage from exposure.  I impatiently waited 2 weeks to get the results of my blood work.  One night when I was in St. Louis at a conference, I found a tiny streak of blood when I went to the bathroom and immediately assumed the worst.  I angrily asked God, “Why would you give me this baby and then take it away?”.  I came to the immediate realization that this baby WAS God’s to give or take away, not mine.  At my next doctor’s appointment we heard a healthy heartbeat and my doctor told me I had previously been exposed to the virus, so I had the antibodies to protect the baby.  There is something so humbling about carrying a miracle that God is intricately forming inside of you, knowing that there is literally nothing you can do except try to stay healthy and pray for the best.  I am praying for a much greater faith in the Lord and His will for my life, whatever the outcome.  It’s a hard but rewarding journey to practice surrendering control.  Maybe He knew that my ultimate lesson with surrendering control would be a time where I had no other choice.  J  He’s so wise.

We are now 20 weeks (halfway through the pregnancy) and we find out on Tuesday if we are having a boy or a girl.  I have a feeling it’s a boy, but we will see what God has in store for us in 2012. J