I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant


 

 



The original Myspace blog that I posted a few days after my daughter was born:



The short version of what happened...







7/3/2007 9am: I felt fine and was getting ready to go to some meetings.





I was a mother by noon.



 
I realize that news stories occasionally pop up about people giving birth without prior knowledge that they were pregnant, but usually it seems to happen to the somewhat dim, morbidly obese I-wash-myself-with-a-rag-on-a-stick set. Anyone that has ever met me knows that I'm a giant flake, but not exactly an idiot.





I've gained a bunch of weight in the last year and a half, but have have not gained any (according to the scale) since December.



I took two pregnancy tests in March that came up negative.





I have a tendency towards weird digestive problems.



I have a screwed up menstrual cycle and don't always get my period.





I've been legitimately stressed out for the last six months.





That being said...



I thought that I had really bad cramps last Tuesday morning that turned out to be contractions. I delivered the baby myself; I really didn't know what was happening until I was delivering.





When I realized what was happening, I was not expecting her to be alive or even fully formed, but she started making noise right away.





And then I called 911.





We both stayed in the hospital for 2 nights, she didn't need any help breathing. Her weight at discharge was 4lbs, 8.8oz and she has gained 5.2oz in the week since. Her pediatrician is amazed by how healthy she is despite her low weight and dubious prenatal conditions; she does not show any signs of defects or complications, she has a Kung Fu grip and eats constantly.





I know that it sounds like I'm handling the whole thing too casually.





Last Tuesday was the loneliest, most terrifying day of my life. I spent hours trying to decide if I even wanted to see her, I had no idea if I had any business keeping her. I had no idea if she was going to be okay; I was painfully aware that I drank and smoked (albeit a lot less than I used to) throughout the pregnancy. I was painfully aware that even when you do everything right, there's a lot that can go wrong.









Oh yeah, and I didn't really plan on ever having kids.











I decided that the best thing for both of us was for me to move back to Rochester, I'm completely ill-equipped for motherhood and my family is being very supportive (after their heads finished exploding).









Overall, I've gotten attached to her very quickly.











Everything that I never wanted is not such a bad deal. 

 



I look back on that entry with a lot of  resentment. I wrote it to reassure my family and friends that I was okay.

For the most part, people were so freaked out that it sucked the usual joy out of a birth.

Nobody really visited me in the hospital or sent flowers or anything that "everyone else got"

I thought about giving her up for adoption without telling anyone and just killing myself.



I had no idea what kind of shape she was in when she arrived at the hospital, she was taken before I was. I was in shock in intake, trying to process what had happened.

A nurse asked me if I wanted to see her, I said I wasn't ready, I asked where they had taken her. I assumed that she was in NICU with some configuration of tubes and monitors.

The nurse told me that she was in the nursery and that she was beautiful, leaving me even more confused.



I thought that the extent of my drinking was a guarantee for a sick baby.

 

The First Picture of Her that I took. I Keep it on My Phone.


By the time this happened, I had been in living in Atlanta for 3 years. During the first 2 years I had managed to get fired from 3 jobs. From March of 2006 to July of  2007 I was a craigslist *****.

I met strange men online and let them come over to my apartment to have sex with me. This is not something that healthy people do.

Although I was basically incapable of "working" sober, even when I was sober I didn't feel that my line of work was a red flag.

Of course I kept it a secret. Part of me must have known that it was destructive.

I drank constantly and prostitution was the sum of my social encounters. Depression to the extent of being suicidal and anxiety attacks to the extent of thinking I was dying were daily occurrences. I got used to being sick, I got used to being sad. I got used to being terrified by the world.

 

I think that God tries to whisper in our ear when it's time to change our ways.When it doesn't work he tries something...bigger.

 

 

 

 

Today she is a smart, beautiful, happy almost-three-year old. I have gotten help. Lots of help.
jennyg30 jennyg30
26-30, F
Feb 28, 2010