Birth.

I gained close to 100 lbs when I was pregnant with my son. I ate pizza and Chinese buffet and enormous bowls of Kellogg Mini Wheats. I ate everything, and no one was going to tell me I couldn't because I was feeding TWO. Unfortunately, my enormous weight gain led to preeclampsia. For those of you who don't know, this is pregnancy induced high blood pressure. If you have ever seen one of those baby having reality shows, if the mother has this and is within a few weeks of birth they generally just take the baby out because the only cure is birth. Yes that is what GOOD MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS do. I however, am a military dependent and therefor have yet in my time as such received quality medical care. In fact, they had me take a 24 hour pee test to check for preeclampsia and then didn't even call me to let me know it was positive and that I needed to be admitted. I just happened to take my blood pressure at Walmart and it just happened to be triple digits top and bottom and my mother forced me to go to the hospital.

Once there, instead of taking the baby out immediately in protection of my own life (I was only a few days out from my due date), they started me on a magnesium drip in order to prevent seizures as well as a labor inducing drug. They left me like that for 72 hours with no progress in labor and dangerously high blood pressure. I just remember being so scared. I felt so ill and the magnesium gave me a headache and left me in a haze. The nurses kept saying things like "I can't believe your blood pressure is this high" and would look at me with these worried faces before quickly retreating to giggle at the nurses station. I don't remember days becoming nights or who was in and out of the room in that 72 hours. I remember Travis, constantly leaving to smoke and driving home to eat and sleep. I know I kept asking my mom to pray for me and I remember when my dad finally arrived shortly before they took me for an emergency C-section he sat down beside my bed, took my hand and just told me I didn't have to talk.

And then a spinal block and hair covering. Travis covered in hospital blue with only his eyes peeking out at me and the curtain separating us from my open belly and our baby. He was healthy and I know there is a picture of me, still on the table, looking at him wrapped all up in one of those little blankets, but I don't remember really seeing him other than recognizing he looked just like his father. I was still on magnesium and my mind was pure fog. Afterwards in recovery everyone came in, my parents and Travis' parents. I sat up and projectile vomited.

I couldn't go home because my blood pressure wouldn't regulate. I laid in the hospital bed, naked except for the white fishnet underwear they provide you with after your stomach or vagina has been split open with no care as to how I must have looked and who saw me. I don't remember holding my son except for when someone made me. My mom stayed beside my bed and tended to everything concerning him. She formula fed him with a tiny tube attached to a bottle and her finger to try and prevent him from wanting a bottle until I could nurse. I never did, and I didn't leave that hospital for a week and only after being prescribed blood pressure medication because they could not regulate mine.

The whole thing was one of the worst experiences of my life.

Pregnancy with my daughter was easy. I was careful about what I ate, worked out the whole time. I was forced to have a second C-section (which I guess I didn't care enough about to switch Dr's), which really just meant I got to pick a date and a time, wake up, flat iron my then long hair, and go have a baby. That is pretty much how it went. I do remember being walked into the operating room and before me were 2 very attractive corpsman (we are still doing the military thing remember), and thinking to myself, "OF COURSE two attractive early 20 something DUDES are about to put in my catheter and assist in cutting me open." However considering my previous experience this issue was minimal. Travis was on deployment so it was my mom in the hospital blue surgical suit this time. They pulled out another healthy baby, a girl, and the first thing my mom did between gasps and tears was say, "SHE HAS RED HAIR!" and "SHE LOOKS LIKE US!". My camera battery died the moment she was pulled from me so a nurse took a picture on his cell phone.

In recovery I nursed her. She latched on immediately. We Skyped Travis the next day and I was on my way home within 72 hours.

I feel like the births of my children have set the stage for their personalities. I have this son, who is amazing and funny, thoughtful and compassionate but SO difficult sometimes. He is stubborn and argumentative. He can be anxious and obsessive. And then I have this daughter who sings and the birds and squirrels come to her window. She is agreeable and easily pleased. There are an equal amount of blessings found in both and I suppose only time will tell if it's coincidence.