Truthful Tuesday- Breaking the news....

Jumping back into another of my favorite bloggy carnivals.... Truthful Tuesdays!! Click the button above to read what our host Elizabeth has to say about the question of the day:




How Did You Tell DH (or your family!) You Were Pregnant?

Well--- with Lady M, it was a little complicated... see, I wasn't married, it wasn't in my plan, etc. If you want all the details, go read about it here .


As for pregnancy numero dos, I found out I was pregnant right before my little brother's wedding. Obviously, I didn't want to steal any "thunder" there, so I kept it quiet until after the wedding. I remember when I took the pee stick test, my husband was at work and he'd been working a LOT. I thought it would be such a surprise for him that I took a picture of the word "positive" on my Clearblue Easy test and emailed it to him at work. Then I called him and told him to check his email. He said he would when he got a minute, but he had to go, since he was in the middle of something. I was so excited, and happy with myself that I'd come up with a creative way to let him know that we were expecting our first baby together. I waited and waited for him to call me back, shocked and happy and excited.... but it just never happened. When he came home from work, he walked in the door and I looked at him expectantly. He took off his shoes, plopped down in the chair and grabbed the remote. I was a little offended.


"Boss, did you check your email?"


"Yep."


"Well, did you get the picture I sent you? Did you read the email?" 


"Yep."


I was so mad, I didn't say another word, probably for the rest of the night. Now, after several more years of marriage, I realize that my husband is not the kind of person to show deep emotion. When something really touches his emotions, he tends to shut down, kind of in a "robot" mode. I know now that he was on "auto-Boss". He blames it on the Marine Corps, and I've learned not to let it get to me. 


So I had shared the news with the person who should know first. No one else knew...


Or so I thought... the problem was that since I was living with my parents when I was preggers with Lady M, I had failed to change my phone number in my chart at the OB to my "married and living with my husband" home number. SO, the day before my bro's wedding, my mom got an automated call from the doctors' office reminding Mama Bee of her first OB appointment on the Monday following the weekend wedding. 


That didn't go over too well. "Is there something you forgot to tell me??" was my mom's question. So I had to let the cat out of the bag then. She was excited, and maybe a bit mad for me not telling her sooner, but she got over it quickly.


Then came time to tell soon-to-be big sister Lady M. I found out I was pregnant about mid July, and Lady M's birthday is early August. I came up with a plan to break the news to her and the rest of the family all at one time: her birthday party. I searched and searched until I found a cute (but not expensive since she was only turning 5) necklace that said "Big Sister" on it. At the party, I waited until she'd opened all of her gifts and then handed her the wrapped necklace. She opened it up, and we helped her read it. 


"Big Sister? But I'm not a big sister....". She was little confused. 


That's when I made the announcement that I was 8 weeks pregnant. Of course, she was thrilled, and asked that her next present be a baby sister. My family congratulated me, and everything turned out great... thankfully there were no hard feelings for why I didn't tell everyone at my brother's wedding about our news.


The pregnancies that followed all varied... my third pregnancy, I told everyone fairly early. For me, I get very sick, very early, so it's not something I can hide too easily. Lady M was asking me by my second day of morning sickness, so I told her we were expecting again. Unfortunately, when we found there was no heartbeat and officially lost the baby at 14 weeks, she didn't handle it so well. Same thing happened with number 4, which was even more disheartening. 


So by the time I was pregnant for the fifth time, I told NO ONE except my husband. That was, until I had to have my mom drive me to the doctors office to make sure everything was okay when I miscarried yet again. That was a weird phone call....


"Mom, I know, I should've told you, but I was pregnant, and now I don't think I am anymore, and I need you to take me to the doctor right now in case I have to be admitted to the hospital." Being the greatest mom in the world, she completely understood my reasons, and simply helped me out. 


AND FINALLY...


Now that we are 13 weeks into Baby Number 6, it was just a matter of laying it all out there. I told everyone pretty early, because I've figured out that regardless of what the outcome is, at least with more people knowing, they are praying that we will be able to have a healthy baby come September.... and prayer works!!


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(Funny little addition to this story:


When I was pregnant with Miss Priss, I didn't want to know if I was having a boy or girl. I didn't find out with Lady M, so I knew that it would mean we would be buying lots of gender neutral stuff. When we went for the ultrasound, I made it clear we didn't want to know the sex of the baby, but to write in on my chart in case we changed our minds. Well, after about 2 weeks of pressure from the family, I caved and called the doctors office.  And the news: it's a girl!!


So I went out on a search for an item that said, "Daddy's Little Girl" on it. After a trip to 3 Walmarts and 2 Targets, plus Babies R Us, I finally found a pack of bibs that would do the trick. While Boss was at work, I rolled the bibs up, placing the Daddy's Little Girl one on top so it would be the first thing he'd see, placed them in a box and wrapped it in yellow and green baby paper. When he came home from work, I gave him the gift. 


He opened it.  As soon as he saw the word "girl", he threw the box across the room and yelled, "Great! Another 18 years of princess parties!!" 


Now that Miss Priss's here, he wouldn't trade her for anything. I secretly think he wants another girl this time, he's already coming up with some girl names :)  )

Dancing Queen Wannabe

So it's time to get honest again. I mean, I'm always honest in my blogging, but you know, it's TRUTHFUL TUESDAY!!

Elizabeth's question of the day:

What talent do you wish you have...

but don't?

Where to start, where to start..... let's see...

Obviously, I wish I was able to write!! Like really write. I'd love to be a talented blogger with thousands of followers like so many of you are, but it's just not gonna happen for me. I can't come up with a streamline theme for my blog, like writing about motherhood or crafts or food or whatever, because I'm not that focus minded. Not to mention, I'm just a terrible writer!! I'm the queen of run on sentences, mispelin (I did that on purpose- if you can't figure it out, email me) and BAD GRAMMAR!!

Another talent I would love to have is the ability to dance. I was born with two left arms as legs, which is much worse than two left feet!! Now before your mind gets carried away, I was not really born with two left arms- I was just trying to paint you a picture of how UNGRACEFUL I really am. I watch people who pour their heart and soul out in their movements, and I have tried, really I have, but I'm a self professed stumble-ina. I took dance (jazz, tap and ballet) for about 3 years as a child, and while I wasn't terrible, I just knew I looked like a dodo bird out on the stage at recitals. Thankfully, it appears both of my daughters will be much better at these things than I.

I shouldn't complain though. I can carry a tune, and I have the privilege of helping lead worship at my church every single Sunday and Wednesday night. People ask me to sing at special functions (like an upcoming Valentines dinner for single moms). I don't think I'm nearly as talented as other people do, but I'm honored to be able to do what dancers do with my voice (at least sometimes!). And I was blessed with a somewhat natural ability to play the piano. So I can say that I'm much more musically inclined, which maybe makes up for my lack in GRACE AND POISE!!

So what about you?? What talent to you WISH you had??? Jump on the McLinky over at Confessions of a Working Mom and share your wish with the world.  

What matters most

 

This is the first time I've ever participated in Elizabeth's meme, but today I'm gonna write my lil heart out. Elizabeth's question today is:

Have you ever lost something...

And came out a winner?

My answer : a big loud resounding YES!!
I could list probably no less than a million things here, but who has time to read or write that?

Before I became pregnant with Lady M, I was living life like I was invincible. I was an alcoholic and drug user, and was completely set on a road that I should have never set even one foot on.

At eighteen, I graduated high school with honors, was headed to college with a music scholarship and had been accepted into the music program at UNC-G as a performance major, which was not an easy task. The summer between HS and college, I went on a missions trip with my youth group to West Palm Beach, FL, where, believe it or not, there is a huge problem with poverty and homelessness. We worked for a week with inner city kids, one of whom was determined they were going home with me, and I felt like my life had a purpose. For whatever reason, when I came home, something inside me shut down. I had been struggling with what doctors had diagnosed as a "panic disorder", which in hindsight was more likely the beginning of my brain tumor journey. I'd been put on medicines, but nothing was helping. I'd have spells where my vision would blur then go black, my hearing would be gone, and I'd pass out. Apparently while I was out, I'd hyperventilate, then stop breathing. It happened all through my senior year in hs (embarrassing), and then followed me to college. That same summer, I was working at Kmart and a friend had told me that if I smoked a cigarette, it would help with the "spells". So, me, the girl who HATED smoke and cigarettes, tried it. I felt a little desperate to get something to help with the "panic attacks". For whaever reason, it worked.

Maybe that's why I started questioning everything I'd ever believed.

Within a month, I was drinking more alcohol than anything else, had tried my first joint and LSD (not on purpose, someone spiked my drink ). Over the next 3 years, I experimented with much more, but nothing that I thought would be something I couldn't control. I quit college after almost 2 years, and started working full time and partying anytime I was off work. My drinking problem had grown into something bigger than I'd ever imagined. I was going to my friend's house every night with a large bottle of cheap vodka and orange juice and drinking the night away with screwdrivers. The fact that I looked older than my age was not a blessing at the time, but I sure thought I was getting away with something. I had more "real" friends at the time than I'd ever had in my life. I was cool, accepted, and desired. I thought I was having the time of my life, until one night when I'd had a lot to drink, and popped a few too many pills...

Frankly, I don't remember a whole lot about the night I got pregnant. I know that I was out with what I thought was one of my best friends for his birthday. We'd been close for years, and he seemed like such a valiant kind of guy to me. We barhopped to several places, before coming back to his house. What happened after that is fuzzy, but the end result was 2 pink lines.

When I found out I was pregnant, my world turned upside down. I got "morning sickness" before I'd ever missed a period. A coworker at the time asked me if I was pregnant, and I hadn't really even considered it. When I took a test and got a positive, it was all I could do not to just lose it. But I convinced myself it wasn't real. 6 positive pregnancy tests later, I couldn't deny it any more. The biggest issue was that I was still technically living with my parents, althought most nights I spent elsewhere. I was raised in a strict Christian home, which I see now as such a blessing, but at time time I was petrified of how my parents would react.  I couldn't tell them.

Finally, when I was almost 8 weeks pregnant, and had become so dehydrated that I could barely walk, I broke down.

"I'm pregnant. I'm sorry, I'll move out and get food stamps and Section 8 housing or live in a homeless shelter or whatever, I'm sorry".

My parents loved me regardless. Over the next week and a half, I was admitted to the hospital for "hyperemisis gravidarum". My blood pressure was 83/38 when I was admitted. I was in horrible shape, but at least I'd managed to quit drinking and everything else. After leaving the hospital 5 days later fully re-hydrated, I had to make a tough decision: I could not go back to any of the friends I'd had before. I'd lost touch with pretty much everyone from high school, and had no friends anywhere else, so it was just me, my siblings and my parents, working through all of this mess. I ended up losing my job, and drawing unemployment for my entire pregnancy.  But it all worked out, and I received the best gift a girl could ever ask for: Lady M.

So all of that to say this....

I thought I was living a great life. I could get any guy, I was envied by other girls, everyone wanted me as their friend... but when I gave up that lifestyle, I gained so much more than I could ever have imagined. I became a mother.