Eleven years ago tomorrow Bean was born. At 23 years old I had surgery for some 'female problems', the surgery was a sucess for a whole two months, then all of the problems resurfaced. My physician at the time told me there was nothing we could do except repeat the surgery every time the problems returned. "What! Every two months? I don't think so buddy!" It was then he told me that I had little hope of ever being a mother. Not the most devastating news I'd ever gotten. I was only 23, newly married and we hadn't talked much about children, we were still having to much fun alone to consider bringing another life into our home.
Skip ahead a few years to a visit with my OB/GYN. This particular set of female problems was being caused by the 'pill' which I was taking to help with my other set of female problems...can't win for losing.
The doctors advice was to stop taking the pill...Okay, no big deal, I usually forgot at least once a week anyway.
"Wait a minute, I'm 31 and what about getting pregnant?" The doctor reassured me that I had only a 20% chance of getting pregnant and an even greater chance of miscarrying the baby-the chances were slim. We were set in our ways, comfortable with the idea of not being able to have children, and had made a life accordingly. Although secretly I was starting to feel the need to be a mother, I hadn't said anything to Gary because of the risks involved for both me and the baby, intending to leave well enough alone and go on spoiling my nieces and nephews.
That OB/GYN visit was on a hot August day, in late November Gary was intensely ill with the stomach flu, and by early December so was I...NO wait, no I wasn't, I just didn't recognize morning sickness. Christmas Day I sat at my in-laws house telling them I wasn't really hungry because I'd had heartburn ever since I got over the stomach flu Gary had given me. [Gary gave it to me alright...it just wasn't the stomach flu] My three nieces [near my age] who were all pregnant told me I had joined their club. Nope, not me...two doctors had said so. Of course nearly impossible to get pregnant isn't the same as impossible, but I was in serious denial, I was 31 and had never really considered being a mother because of the risks involved. I called my doctor and left a message on Christmas Day and got a call back the following morning! Pretty fast for a call back right? Yeah, turns out that BOTH patients of his that he considered 'unable' to have children left messages for him on Christmas Day saying they thought they were pregnant!! Both of us turned out to be pregnant and personally I had an incident free pregnancy [healthwise], just don't talk to me about the semi-truck driver who ran into the front of my car. Here I am 4 and a half months into a high risk pregnancy and a Semi makes a left turn into the front of my car! Man was I mad! Well, not at first, my car was stuck on the bumper of his semi and I was just worried about my baby. It was after the truck driver said I had sped up in order to cause the accident [for insurance]that I got mad, and I let the State Trooper know it. After the Trooper found out that I was pregnant he wasn't to happy with the truck driver either. I also pointed out that the speed limit was 35 and my airbags would have blown if I'd been speeding [and they hadn't] so someone was lying and it wasn't the hormonal lady in the maroon car.
Almost exactly one year after that fateful visit to my OB/GYN I was ready to bring our daughter into the world.
On August 11th 1998, Gary was saying his last goodbye to me in the delivery room before I started pushing. Gary had no intention of staying in the room for Bean's arrival. Gary's a bit squeamish about the oddest things. He can nearly cut his thumb off [no problem], but gets upset over the sight of needles and carnage when others are involved. He was ducking out the door and a nurse blocked his way informing him that they were short handed and needed his help...no options. I could see the 'Oh yippee' on his face!! Never the less he stayed, didn't faint, and was a great source of comfort and strength to me [this was my first time too]. Bean was an 8 pound screaming mess and as soon as the doctor plopped her onto my chest I was in love. White curly hair and pert little nose, I'll never forget that first glimpse.
Tomorrow marks the 11th year of our time with Bean...Bean, a baby that wasn't supposed to be. Her life has made ours so much more colorful and fun, and I thank God every time I've had to get up in the middle of the night or clean up puke. I'm not saying that I enjoy it well...I guess in some demented mom way I do. But that's just me.
Happy Birthday Bean, Love Ya, MOM.