Becca's birth story hasn't been written. I do think it will remain that way forever, now. I don't remember most of it. Oh sure, I've got bits and pieces - it's an important event! - but I didn't get it all congealed into any sort of meaningful form, and it is far too late now.
So I'll share the bits and pieces. It isn't a story, but the memories are still important.
I have come to the conclusion now, years later, that Becca was meant to be far more than she was an "accident." I'd attended the University of Wisconsin at Madison the year before, and for some reason things were simply not falling into place for housing for the next year. It was still all up in the air when I stowed my things at an aunt's house, flew home, and (you guessed it) was pregnant within the week.
In the fall I hauled my pregnant behind to the University of Hawaii, astounding people by showing up in classes like Calculus III, Calc-based Physics II, and Organic Chemistry (erm, pregnant lady, WTF are you doing here?). I filled papers with shapes and numbers and dialed microscopes, and I had this odd feeling that everyone thought my life was pretty much over after this.
They were kind of right. "It will be Different," the already-mothers all say. Different. Capital D, Different. A NEW kind of Different.
I was horribly morning-sick during the first and part of the second trimester. I ate and ate and barfed and barfed. My husband (then boyfriend) came into the room and it was all I could do not to vomit from the smell of his cologne - when I got him to stop wearing cologne it was the deodorant, when he got unscented deodorant it was the soap. I yelled at my sister not to use so much shampoo because it was stinking up the place.
I gained 4lbs in the first trimester, because I puked so much.
I felt movement at 14 weeks. Too early?! I don't know, I was pretty thin and laying on my belly at the time, and I swear I felt it. I'd forgone the first trimester ultrasound that was a given in the practice I went to (I was sure of my dates even if they weren't, and I wasn't going to do one for THEIR sake, damnit), so we compromised and had one at 15 weeks instead of 20, to get better dating but still be able to see whether things were developing right. The man who performed the ultrasound is a neonatologist, a very skilled surgeon who ENJOYED doing these ultrasounds and did them for FUN. It was probably the best scan I've ever even heard about. Chatty, immediate explanations, "look, here's what I'm measuring, isn't that neat? Oh, I love doing ultrasounds on healthy women and babies. See those toes? That there is the cord, see how it..." I hope he's still doing it.
I showed up halfway through the second trimester with a weight gain of 30 some-odd lbs and was asked if I wanted a referral to a nutritionist. "No," I said, just-out-of-teenagerhood-me having quite enough trouble with the perceptions of others already and unwilling to place myself under scrutiny any more. Blood pressure was fine, GTT was fine, and the docs at the huge HMO I was going to didn't seem inclined to care much if I got horribly fat so long as I did it without causing organ damage.
At 30-something weeks we found out that the insurance plan I was on, through my mom, would cover me but not my baby. Um, not cool? There is a "mother" and a "baby" section on the hospital bills, and that "baby" section can be a couple thousand dollars strong. So we transferred care to my Dad's PPO, and I started seeing a doctor across the mountains from us.
I liked this better. Two doctors in the practice and one of them would be at the delivery. I hand-carried my records from the HMO to my new doctors, and they accepted them without question.
I never heard another word about my weight. That's puzzling, now...I gained 75lbs or thereabouts with this pregnancy. But I must have looked healthy enough despite all that.
Before I got pregnant:
One month before Becca was born: