Those first 4 months in Jacksonville were eventful, to say the least. I wasted no time in prepping for the future, imagining what the heck was going to happen to my life. At the time, I had been through a rough year and a half and finally felt like I was getting back to normal when I got knocked up. It was like never-ending trauma. In March, I moved back to Ohio and lived with my college roomate and her husband (rent free). Although I appreciated their generosity and affections, it was an uncomfortable stage of life for me. To go from living on my own with my own space and successful career to starting over in Ohio, a place overrun with corn fields and SNOW, shacked up in an extra room in my friends' new house was less than ideal. That summer, I was so hot, SO HOT. I cried a lot because I felt fat and ugly and was unable to swim due to lack of private beaches and my insanely huge body (I don't really care much about swimming, but when you're carrying an extra 50 lbs in the dead of summer, anything that would take some weight off and allow me to cool down seemed like HEAVEN). For what seemed like eternity, I lived in Columbus but drove to Dayton daily for work. I had transferred here with the same company I was with in Florida, only to find out that not only was I demoted, but I had lost my insurance and paid time off... Not the type of info I was looking for at the time. The day I applied for Medicaid SUCKED. I sat in the office of Job and Family Services, the only white person, alone, pregnant, confused, scared, and humiliated. I had a college degree with a decent job - how did I end up there? Eventually, I started getting interviews with other companies. My favorite position was with Modis, and IT Staffing firm based out of Jax, but with a remote office in Columbus (irony). I went through 3 interviews, stuffing myself in my nice clothes, trying my best to hide my baby bump (who's gonna hire a pregnant lady?). After the 3rd interview, I learned that I did not get the job and it was around that time that I gave up on believing the things would somehow work out.
I kept trying, however, and eventually landed a job with the American Cancer Society that allowed me to live in Athens, close to my family (the purpose of moving back to OH) and work from home (an incredible opportunity for me at that time). I took a pay cut, I moved into a tiny, run down apartment, but at least I was stably employed with my own space. I worked hard on getting Olivia's room decorated and set up. Jake and I would spend evenings in there folding her clothes, smelling her baby stuff (Jake did that, not me, so that he could get used to the scent of a child), and dreaming of when there'd actually be a kid to put in that crib! We'd lay on the couch, watching Law and Order, with Jake's head on my belly and Olivia kicking him from inside (shoulda known then that she'd be a handful!). Eventually, the day came for me to go to the hospital to be induced. As I packed up our stuff, I was so... indecribably ready. I had money saved, a job that would allow me time off, my own place, baby equipment EVERYWHERE, and most importantly, I wanted to be free from those extra 50 lbs (it made doing simple things extremely complicated - I couldn't fit ANYWHERE!). I sat on my porch, throwing the ball for Jake, informing him that he'd be staying in Glouster with my family while I went to have this kid that would be bunking with us permanently from here on out. I called Stef to tell her I was going to the hospital. I looked around at my apartment for the last time as just me, Billie.
I showed up late to the maternity ward at O'Bleness (typical of me). After setting me up in a room, they started the pitocin, thinking that by the same time that next night, we'd have our newest addition. Instead, it was 48 hours later when Olivia finally made her appearance. During labor, Amber, Meghan, and my mom stayed with me, feeding me ice chips, rubbing my back, holding my hand, and watching all of the disgusting stuff that happens to a woman giving birth. I know that no matter what happens in life, I'll ALWAYS appreciate them for being with me during the most important moments of my life. When they finally decided to perform a c-section, I was terrified. My mom came into the operating room with me, but for those first few moments, I was there alone with the nurses. I remember begging them to tell me that everything would be ok, and instead of positive assurance, I was met with the loudest, most deafening silence I've EVER heard. They strapped down my hands and put a curtain under my chin so I couldn't see or move (I'm claustrophobic, so that part REALLY sucked). I hadn't taken Lamaz, so instead, I sang a commercial jingle (Beep beep, dot com, shop for cars online) over and over and over. After what seemed like forever (and a joke from the dr about "oh, you thought it was a girl???"), they showed Olivia to me, holding her up on my right side. All I could do was cry. Immediately, all of my worries, frustrations, anxiety vanished. All I could think about was holding that tiny being, name still unknown. My mom cut the umbilical cord and my friends stayed with Olivia to make sure that she wouldn't be switched (I watch too much Law and Order, I know). When they finally took me to my room, they brought the baby out immediately. I was in awe of her. She was so tiny, so perfect, sooooo tiny. When she was born, the discovered that she was Polydactyly. Normally, anything abnormal grossed me out, but this time, it seemed like such a miniscule thing that I didn't even notice until the nurse mentioned it. That night, I couldn't sleep, I just laid watching her, wondering how I could've produced something so precious.
The next few days were filled with flowers, visitors, learning, and sleep. It's amazing how birth can just take the life right outta ya (haha). I enjoyed the nurses, I learned to change a diaper, I finally named her (after 3 days of indecisiveness). The day we went home, I didn't really want to leave. It was so comforting to have those nurses close for those middle of the night feedings and to answer any questions I might have without making me feel like an idiot. As a volunteer wheeled us out of the hospital, I was disappointed to find Olivia's first breath was a smokey one, thanks to the smoker next to the hospital exit (I'm still bitter about this - and it just adds to my reasons to quit smoking). My mom drove us to our house to pick up a few extra supplies. While there, I put Olivia in her crib and was AMAZED at how tiny she was. Everything I'd been waiting on had finally arrived.
We spent the first 3 days at my mom's house. Those days weren't my favorite, so I mentally skip over that part. Once we came back home, I was too scared to drive for the longest time. Thankfully, I had stocked up on supplies pre-baby and wasn't forced to go to the store for another week. Our first time in WalMart, I felt like a crazy person, trying to control myself from yelling at people that got too close ("Don't you see there's a baby here?!?!").
I remember the Notts coming to visit and me forgetting how to work a bottle (I was nursing so I don't think I'd used a bottle yet) and how embarrassed I was when Roger had to show me how to work the bottle's nipple. I remember the nights of crying, the 3rd night especially when I finally gave her a binky (who knew what trauma that would later cause). I remember sleeping on the couch a lot with her on my chest during the days. At night, I eventually gave up on trying to stay awake throughout the night for her to nurse and finally succumbed to sleeping in a recliner with her (it allowed me some sleep which was much appreciated). I remember hiding in the closet when her umbilical cord came off and watching Ryckman dispose of it. I remember seeing my Jax friends via webcam for the first time with Olivia. She was 5 weeks old on her first airplane to visit her Florida family. I let the flight attendent take her to the front of the plane to show her friends while I settled in (later thinking of how easy it coulda been for her to take off with my child!). I remember Stef and Jeremy trying to help soothe her during a crying fit or 2 during that visit. I remember how impressed and pleased I was that she slept through a manicure and pedicure during that visit. I remember the first time she rolled over - I wasn't even in the room! I'd ran back to my bedroom for something, leaving her and Jake on the floor. When I returned, she was upside down and backwards... I still wonder if Jake somehow moved her. :-) I remember putting her in her bouncy in the bathroom with the tub running because the noise soothed her.
That first year, almost 2 years, we remained in our tiny apartment, the three of us. I remember being frustrated at times, but those memories are fuzzy. What I remember clearly is playing outdoors, eating new foods, singing and doing crazy dances, knowing that if she was older, she'd be totally embarrassed by me. Our family was complete, even though it was only me as the parent.
The last year has been a whirlwind. Olivia has started daycare and will be going to preschool in September. We've moved into a bigger house, aquired some additional pets, and Rick. She's walking, talking, dancing, screaming, running, jumping, singing, and being a typical 3 year old.
So 3 years and nine months later, here I am, happy, successful, loved, not so terrified, and comfortable with my life. There was a time or two that I didn't think things would work out, but I'm happy to say that I was incredibly wrong. Sometimes I read www.truemomconfessions.com and see that people often post on there how they were scared to have a kid and after reading all of the complaints by the parents, they're even more terrified or just completely against reproducing. If there was one thing I could say to those people, or anyone that is/was/will be in a situation similar to my own, it would be that sometimes, the best things are the most challenging things and that nothing worth anything comes easy.
Happy Birthday Olivia!!!
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