I thought this meant a perfectly easy and enjoyable pregnancy.
On September 8th, my lower back hurt while I was visiting with family so we went to bed early. I woke my fiancée up at 2 o'clock in the morning and told him that something wasn't right. I had an ultrasound scheduled for 10 a.m. but I wanted to know what was going on so my grandmother drove us to the hospital because I'd begun having contracts and he was too overwhelmed to even speak. As I stepped onto the hospital parking lot, I said "I think I just peed." I sat in the wheelchair and my grandmother touched the wet spot on my pants and she slowly turned the tissue up and it was the brightest blood I'd ever seen. I had contractions for two days and bled for two and a half months. I began to lactate a week after my first contractions. Everyone tried to be helpful, "it wasn't your time", "just try again", "let your body heal", "you guys are just making a name in your careers, put this off for five years." My cousin and best friend found out they were pregnant around the time I did. My best friend is about to have a healthy baby boy and my cousin is having a third daughter. I'm supposed to be in their delivery rooms and I resent them. I don't want pictures of their bumps and ultrasounds. I don't want to pick out baby names. I don't want to be a godmother. I want to be a mommy and I want my husband to be a daddy.