We’ve all seen the TV show, seen the urban-legend like tales of women that didn’t know they were pregnant. Most of us, especially those that have been pregnant, all say “No way. But, how?”

I sure felt that way for years. I mean, with Denver I had symptoms before I knew. With Molly, I didn’t really have symptoms before I knew, but after a couple of weeks it hit me. In my first pregnancy I got huge, there was no denying something was going on. With my second, the distinct basketball at my waistline was a rather clear clue.

I sure never thought anyone could miss the fact they were pregnant.

Until it happened to me.

When Molly was born, Erik & I agreed that was it. Two was our limit. Financially and space-wise (TINY house, have I mentioned?). We were done. Finito. Kaput. I was breastfeeding, had the pill and we took every precaution we possibly could. Well, just about.  At no time in our lives was there any less than 3 forms of birth control happening – and with a new baby in the house sleep was often a more precious commodity than alone time (You know that commercial where the couple gets a hotel room and the second the blinds are closed they pass out instead of sexy-time? Yeah…sort of like that.)

At four months of age, Molly’s silent reflux came to the forefront, as did her FTT. I (stupidly) stopped breastfeeding by her (stupid) pediatricians advice and switched to formula in a desperate attempt to have her gain weight (what a stupid, stupid thing…but that’s a story for another day).

All of the health care visits for Molly kept me busy. I was working as a waitress at nights. I was busy, tired, not paying much attention whatsoever. Life was nuts.

Once in a while I got an odd pain that I swore hit right on my cervix – which was really odd considering my status as a non-preggo mom of two.

In December 2005 I wrote the following on my LiveJournal (remember those days?) entry:

I feel pregnant still/again. Nearly 100% sure I’m not…because it would be almost physically impossible to be…and if I was, I’d be about 6 months along right now and a bit bigger than I am…so I think I have another cyst. Probably pretty nasty too, because when I was taking a bath the other night I realized one side of my abdomen is relatively solid. There’s definitely something in there. I’m still 10 lbs. above pre-preggers weight and I don’t eat a ton…I eat like I always have. My boobs are still a cup size over pre-preggers and leaking…and I’m moody as Hell…I’ve started getting the sharp pains around my ovary area that I got when I had my last one…but they aren’t as frequent.

Weird, right?

What did I do about all of the oddities?

Not a damn thing. Not for a month.

January came and around mid-month another really odd thing happened.

5:30AM January 17th. No school, Erik didn’t work, I didn’t work until about 5:30PM. All was quiet.

My eyes flew open. I was wide awake.

Mind you, I am nowhere near a morning person – if I do wake up at that time I’m usually half dead. But nope, not that day, I was wide-eyed-pie-eyed.

I set my hand on my stomach and said, “What the hell?”

For a split second I’d thought I felt a baby move. You know, the butterfly wing-touches.

Once again, did I do anything?

Nope. I blew it off as GAS. Yeah.

Another two whole weeks went by before I finally decided to just pick up a pregnancy test at the grocery store to shut up that weird nagging voice in the back of my head.

 

Because really – there was no way I was pregnant.

Right?

Test came up positive.

I freaked the hell out. Crying rivers of tears. We couldn’t afford this. We didn’t have room. I called Erik at work, sobbing and asked him to come home. I kept telling him I couldn’t say anything over the phone but he forced it out of me, and he was home twenty minutes later.

Despite the positive test in my hands, I still didn’t believe it. I called the doctor’s office and his fabulous nurse told me to come in first thing in the morning for the blood test. I had to wait another 24 hours before that amazing nurse called me before thy even opened to give me the results. I was, in fact, pregnant. She then said…

“Let me see if we can get you scheduled in about 4 weeks from now. By these numbers I’d say you’re very early, about 4 weeks.”

My response was immediate protest.

“No. You don’t understand. My first symptom was the baby kicking. I’ve felt it move. I’m sure I’m way beyond 4 weeks along.”

In surprise, she agreed we had to get in for an ultrasound ASAP.

4 days later I found out I was having a girl – on the very first ultrasound.

I was 23 weeks.

She was born at 36 weeks.

The doctor said I set a speed record for him in pregnancies.

In my defense, after this visit my pregnancy did far more than set a speed record. It was like the minute my pregnancy was confirmed my body took it as a big thumbs up to REALLY let loose.

I had SEVERE pain (Pubic Symphysis Diastasis) – so bad I couldn’t roll over in bed at night. I blew up and looked pregnant within a week (I hadn’t up until then). I was put on modified bed rest within a month of my ultrasound – true bedrest when I went into pre-term labor at 35 weeks (lifted @36 weeks).  It became almost a nightmare once I knew I was pregnant…

But for 23 weeks I didn’t know I was pregnant!

The results were so worth it, though.

I mean, what would we do without our crazy, cooky, stubborn angel?