Thursday, September 16, 2010

The Conception of Zoey Michelle Shifflett

Seven months ago, my life was completely different.  Jason & I had just dug out of the massive DC snow storm in time to travel to Southwest Virginia to see our friends, Randall and Teresa, say "I Do".  It was also the first time we got to see their little twins that were born the previous summer.  Of course, as soon as we arrived at the Church, we both made our way to the Bride Room to greet Teresa and see those boys.  Since there were two, we didn't need to fight over who got to hold the baby first.  ;)

Having a child of our own has been something Jason & I discussed repeatedly since before we were officially dating.  It's something we both knew we wanted in our future, but there were several things we wanted first: marriage, house, savings, etc.  Our wedding came in March 2009, we closed on a house a few months later, and then our life just took on a course of it's own.  We were back and forth on the topic quite a bit, but eventually we decided to wait to conceive until our 1-year anniversary, in March 2010.

As I stood in the Bride Room looking at the little boy in my arms, I wondered if I was really ready for a baby of our own.  Little did I know a little person was already beginning to grow inside me.  After we returned home, I found myself unusually tired, but I didn't think much of it.  When my "monthly visitor" was officially 2 days late, I turned first to my mom, then to Jason.  In the past, when my period was late, I'd confide in both my mom & Jason, only to find I'd start shortly afterwards.

This time was no different.  On my ride home from work, I dialed my mom and I'll never forgot the words I blurted out when she answered.  I quickly explained: "I'm only calling to tell you I'm late so that I can get my period."  We had a good laugh, and eventually hung up.  When I got home, I told Jason I was officially a couple days late, and his response was a lot different.  He blurted out "you're pregnant".  I told him he was wrong, that I wasn't, and he'd see in a couple days.  And, for the next few days, he refused to let it go.  He'd call me at work, and when I answered - he'd ask if I was still pregnant.  In his mind, until I proved otherwise, I was with child.

Three days later, I was officially 5 days late...which was a new record for me.  A couple new symptoms started to appear, but I really didn't think much of them.  Honestly, the not knowing was the worst part - so I eventually broke down and sent Jason out for a test.  He came back with two...and I took one right away.  I couldn't wait to read the results, I set it on the bathroom sink and stared at it.  Before my eyes, I saw the bold control line appear very quickly.  And across it, a much fainter line began to form.  According to the pamphlet, a "plus" meant pregnant, a "negative" meant not.

When I showed it to Jason, he said it looked like a positive to him.  I sat there with a dumbfounded expression on my face, staring at him and holding the stick.  I fought back tears and the only words that escaped me were the same ones running through my head "does this mean we're going to have a baby?".  For good measure, I waited until the next morning and took the second test.  That second little line popped up much faster than the one from the night before.  I had two tests, both positive.  It was time to call the doctor.

The first few days, I found myself already panicking about the process of labor.  From everything I heard, it was going to hurt - and I really wasn't ready for that!  Instead of concentrating on the end result, I forced myself to look forward to the short goals: hearing the heartbeat, having an ultrasound, determining the sex, having a baby shower, etc.  It helped keep my mind off what was eventually to come.

Now, here I sit, less than 6 weeks away from my estimated due date - and only just over 3 until I'm considered "full term" (which means the baby can come any time).  I'm quickly running out of those little milestones!  With the passing of each small goal, I begin to worry just a little more about the delivery.  And the fact that Zoey's measuring further along than I really am makes me worry just that much more!  Perhaps now is a great time to start looking forward to holding Zoey instead of having her.

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