The Unplanned Pregnancy

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If you remember Saturday 24 November 2007, it’ll be because that’s the day Kevin Rudd became Australia’s new Prime Minister.  I remember it for an entirely different reason. It was the day life as I knew it changed forever. It was the day I found out I was pregnant!

You could have knocked me down with a feather.

You see, I was on the contraceptive pill, it shouldn’t have happened to me. Not then, anyway…

Leopard jacket party time

Kelly-Ann in her pre-children party days!

Life was good. Great actually. I’d met the man of my dreams and we were having a ball. We both had good jobs, we’d moved in together, had a great bunch of friends, a cracking social life and had planned on getting engaged soon, spending the following year traveling around the US, then getting married and having kids in a few years time. A few years time…  not today! Today was not good at all – we had a party to go to that afternoon and I was getting my hair done in an hour!

Instead of going to the hairdressers, we took a trip to the doctors instead. As it was a Saturday, my usual doctor wasn’t available and it was a walk-in clinic rather than by appointment. I’ll never forget the conversation:

  • Me: ‘I think I’m pregnant.’
  • Doctor: ‘What makes you think that?’
  • Me: ‘I just took a test and it was positive.’
  • Doctor: ‘Well you’re pregnant then.’
  • Dylan: ‘Aren’t those things unreliable though?’
  • Doctor: ‘They sometimes say negative when they’re positive but they never say positive when they’re negative.’
  • Both: ‘Oh.’

We decided to still go to the party, because otherwise I think we’d have just sat on the couch glaring at the walls of our apartment. We needed to get our heads around what we’d just discovered and what better way than to go to Freshwater beach to hang out with friends?

It was a party I’ll never forget as long as I live. While all my friends were drinking cocktails and champagne, and dancing around to the DJ, I’d just found out I was having a baby. Usually I’d have been the one cranking up the music and demanding more drinks. Instead I was there in body, but not really in soul. I wasn’t cranking up the music, and I certainly wasn’t demanding any drinks!  It was an odd day.

It didn’t take long for the news to sink in, and when it did we were both ecstatic. We were having a baby! It’s what we both wanted, it had just happened a few years early. No biggy, right?!

Wrong!

The ‘having a baby’ part I could deal with. I was excited. What I didn’t anticipate were the strange things that would happen to me during pregnancy. Not just body changes, but mood changes, emotional changes, and just odd things in general…

Aside from the usual tiredness, I had a really good pregnancy health-wise. I was extremely tired and emotional during the first few months and as the cliché goes, my second trimester was a dream. I felt amazing! I was full of energy, my hair looked great, my skin glowed and I was everything a glowing pregnant woman should be.

The third trimester, I was just fat. So fat I couldn’t bend down to put my socks on. So fat, in fact, that no shoes would even fit me so I lived in flip flops (or thongs as you Aussie’s call them) for the last eight weeks.

I’ve always been quite a slim person, and throughout my pregnancy I only gained a nice little bump at the front and the rest of me stayed in tact… until the last eight weeks. It was like I woke up one morning, and I’d gained 15 kilos over night. There was a lot I hated about that last eight weeks.

Aside from not being able to get my socks on, and huffing and puffing my way through each outfit change, there was the day my flip flop floated away down George Street in the city in rush hour.

The rain couldn’t have come down any harder, and I had to get from my office in Farrer Place at one end of the city to Wynyard Station at the other end. I waddled my way through the crowds with my brolley semi-protecting me from the wind and the rain and just as I thought, ‘It’s okay, I can see the train station’, my foot got stuck in a puddle and I walked out of my thong. By the time I realised what had happened my little shoe was floating down the enormous puddle that had become a bit of a river, and was getting further and further away from me.

thong-sole

Kelly-Ann’s lonely thong

I probably should have let it go but instead I decided I couldn’t live without it, so proceeded to waddle down George Street through the crowds, in the rain to try and catch my little shoe. Each time I thought I was closing in and attempted to bend my enormous body down, a gust of wind would come or a car would speed by and my little shoe would float further away. I’d like to think that in normal circumstances some kind soul would help the crazy fat lady chasing a flip flop down the road, but it was rush hour and it was cold, wet and windy so I doubt anyone even noticed what I was doing. So I like to tell myself, anyway…

You’ll be pleased to hear I eventually caught my flip flop and made it to the train station – only to find out all of the north shore trains had been cancelled due to severe weather conditions. But that’s a story for another day!

There were many things that happened in that last eight weeks that were just awful for me.

There was the time I unexpectedly passed wind on the bus. I was mortified!

There were hundred or so times I’d burst into tears for no apparent reason. What was happening to me??

There was the time someone parked too closely to me and I couldn’t get into my car due to my size. I was stuck in the car park for 45 minutes waiting for their return. What a drag!

There was the time, I couldn’t see ‘down there’ after a wax, and left my bathroom with toilet paper stuck to my bits… much to the amusement of my baby daddy.

There was the time I burst into tears in a shop, because a lady told me my scan was wrong.  According to the shopkeeper, I  was having a girl, not a boy. Apparently she knew better than my scan, because she used to be midwife and I was carrying in the shape of a girl not a boy.  According to her, I should return all of the boy stuff I’d purchased over the past few months and change it all for pink. Oh my goodness, she went on! I couldn’t reason with her. I couldn’t get away from her. In the end I just cried and she left me alone.

There was the time I slipped on the wet floor in my office building and all 85 odd kilos of me went crashing to the floor first thing in the morning. I had to spend the rest of the day hooked up to monitors to make sure the baby was okay. Thankfully,  he was.

There was the time I was refused entry to a bar for ‘being too drunk’. I was 8 months pregnant and hadn’t had a drink in months.  The only reason I was there was to celebrate a friends farewell. He wasn’t a smart man that bouncer…. He refused to believe I was pregnant, which would have been obvious to Stevie Wonder, and further still refused to believe I hadn’t been drinking. Again, I cried… then waddled home.

There was the time I was pulled over for a random breath test on my way home from the movies and the policeman didn’t believe that I couldn’t get out of the car because I thought I was going to wet myself if  I moved He eventually showed compassion and let me get on my way (after I cried).

I itched so badly as well during that last 8 weeks, I felt like my body was on fire. My doctors tested me to make sure there was nothing serious and put it down to hormones, but it was dreadful. I had to keep myself covered in Calamine lotion and carry a shower brush around with me for those hard to reach places. I looked a real treat and I cried, a lot!

Eventually, four days after my due date, I went into labour. It was the middle of the night and I was starving. After demanding corned beef sandwiches with ketchup and cups of sugary tea, I plodded along to the hospital (third worst car journey ever) – and then was sent home again because I wasn’t far enough along (second worst car journey ever).

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Cooper is as shocked at being born, as Kelly-Ann was when she found out she was pregnant

My mum arrived from England while I was at home, trying my best not to cry through pain (my in-laws had picked her up from the airport given that I was busy elsewhere) and she’d brought me Double Deckers, Wispa chocolate bars and Golden Wonder crisps from home. I was as thrilled as someone in heavy labour could possibly be. After devouring the lot, I decided I was definitely far enough along so got back into the car and headed to Royal North Shore (the worst car journey ever).

Aside from the dramatic experience of my waters breaking and flooding the delivery room, and the promise of drugs if I got out of the water (I had planned on a water birth), 22 (horribly drug-free) hours later, I held my amazing little bundle for the first time.

Yes, I’ll admit he looked a bit like an alien and I was startled when his little slimy body was placed on top of mine, but then and there I realised what true love truly meant. Here he was. He was perfect and I adored him. Our precious little boy had arrived and life as we knew it really had changed forever…

Kelly-Ann

Kelly-Ann with her super cute son, Cooper (5 years old)

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