Guys, keeping a secret I was excited about was the hardest thing I have had to do… well besides actual childbirth. Don’t get me wrong, NOTHING is harder than childbirth, but we’ll get to that much later.
So anyway, the very day I found out I was pregnant, I told my mother (of course) and then I waited… a whole 20 minutes or so … and told my brothers. I know I should’ve probably waited till I confirmed it at the hospital but gosh who can keep such great news a secret anyway? I did eventually go to a medical lab close by to confirm and yes, I was definitely pregnant.
After a few weeks, I went to a hospital to have an ultrasound to find out the number of babies I was carrying. (I secretly wanted twins). The sonographer was a very old man who angrily told me “I don’t see any foetus!” as if I had just wasted his time. My heart did a backflip. “What does he mean by that?” I thought. At this point, I was extremely alarmed! He told me to come back in two weeks to check again and that it might be too early to see anything.
I cried in the car on my way home. I had already imagined every single negative thing you could think of. I had called Kobby earlier and he had assured me it was fine and that it was probably too early like he said. Wait a minute. I was supposed to be the optimist and he was always the pessimist so why were we exchanging roles?
Two long weeks came by and finally it was time to go back to the hospital. I went in and this time the sonographer was a pleasant middle-aged woman. She proceeded to examine me and asked if I had drunk enough water because my bladder needed to be full so that she could see the foetus. “Why didn’t anyone tell me this? So that was why the women in the reception couldn’t sit still and kept complaining about not being able to use the bathroom” I realized. I had overheard them complain, but I didn’t bother to ask because it was none of my business. Besides, women can be so rude to other women, I didn’t want anyone to spoil my day.
I eventually had to go out and gulp half a liter of water and then go back in to get checked for the third time. I laid down and the lady, I kid you not, rested the transducer on my abdomen while answering a call. After a minute of extreme discomfort, I yelled “I need to pee!”. She immediately got off the phone and apologized and begun telling me about her conversation. “This woman has got to be kidding me!” I thought. My bladder was on fire, and at that point all I wanted to know was whether or not I had a baby in there. “I see a foetus now, it’s about 9 weeks” she gushed. Thank God!
This was good news, even though I wasn’t having twins, at this point all I wanted was a baby. I was also still unhappy I couldn’t tell any of my friends yet. I needed to wait till the baby had gone past the “danger zone” of 12 weeks before informing anyone. In this part of the world, the “danger zone” is throughout the pregnancy. You are told never to announce your pregnancy at any point. Same goes with travel plans, etc. I guess I’m the exception, because everyone eventually found out.
After two more hospital visits, it had become quite obvious that I needed to change hospitals. My gynecologist seemed impatient with my questions. Hello? I am a first-time mom (who loves talking), of course I have tons of questions! So, I had to move to a different hospital (where I eventually delivered) and met the most patient gyno ever. The journey was just beginning …