Our Story in a Nutshell... A Big One

     I met my husband when I was 13. I had never really had a boyfriend before (other than the occasional, “Will you go out with me?” that results in nothing but the title of boyfriend/girlfriend and maybe some awkward hand holding in the hallways at school). He was 16 at the time and the brother of one of my softball teammates. To make a short story shorter, I became completely infatuated with him in a matter of hours and completely “heartbroken” after he moved on 2 months later. That was that.

     Fast forward seven years to the summer break before my third year in college (roughly 2 and a half hours away from my home) and after being reintroduced through Myspace thanks to my BFF, we fell both hard and fast for one another. One month into our relationship I was forced to leave for school, therefore resulting in the dreaded long-distance relationship. In September Chad was accepted into the firefighter academy which couldn’t have been better timing. He had the academy, I had school, and we had each other on the weekends. Softball season rolled around and I became increasingly busy and increasingly stressed. We both decided that I should look into transferring schools my senior year, but neither of us could have guessed what would ultimately bring me home. In March of 2008, we found out I was pregnant. As terrified as I was to tell my parents, I couldn’t have been happier.

     I finished the school year but not before finding an apartment with Chad. The weekend that I came home to visit and see our place for the first time I had no idea what he had up his sleeve. I completely walked past the flowers and box sitting on the dining room table. It took me by surprise when he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. Things were perfect! I moved home in May and got a part-time job at a department store. Meanwhile, he worked hard to prove himself worthy during his first year on the fire department and also attended paramedic school. Things weren’t exactly ideal, but at least we were together.

     We got married on July 1, and after spending six months in the apartment, we decided we needed more space for our soon-to-be family of three. Thus began the always fun adventure of house hunting. After seeing a few houses in our price range that were pretty sorry, we came across “the one” and knew immediately that it was perfect for us. We moved in September and I quit working. After a month of waiting and nesting, our baby was finally here. She was born on November 10, at 8:20PM, all 9.5lbs and 21 inches of her (and no, I did not have a C-section). We were on cloud nine, at least for the first couple of weeks.

     Not long after Chad went back to work, motherhood became too much for me. I was extremely emotional, extremely exhausted, and extremely resentful. To put it lightly, I was a huge bitch. But (I felt) for good reason. After months of learning through trial and error how to take care of a baby, I finally got a grip on things. My hormones quit raging and so did I. I began enjoying this new life I had and the new life I had in it. Ally gave me a purpose, and for once I knew what I was meant to be doing.

     When Ally was 18 months old, Chad and I felt like we were ready to take this family to the next level. About a week or two after I stopped my birth control, baby number two was on the way. Chad couldn’t have been happier to find out that he was having a son. Thanks to the company (and responsibility) of a toddler, this pregnancy has flown by. We celebrated Ally’s second birthday in November, and that same day, my mother-in-law told us about a house she had found that would be even more perfect for us. We moved two weeks later. This house is about three times the size of our first house. However, unlike our first house, this one has certain features that definitely date it (I’ll get into all that at another time).



     That brings us to now. I’m 37 weeks pregnant and had my last ultrasound yesterday. He is measuring 37 weeks and 5 days, is head down, neck down, and practicing breathing. Because Ally was a big baby, my OB has told me from day 1 that she wasn’t going to let me carry this baby to week 40. Yesterday she dropped a bomb on us and said that if we wanted, we could choose to have him in a week! I was in shock and couldn’t make a decision on the spot. I guess I’ll have to pick a day by Monday. The first is my birthday (I’ll be 24), and I couldn’t think of a better birthday present, but I don’t know about the idea of forcing him to share a birthday with his mother, soo.. I have some thinking to do. (And by the way, I am terrified of labor so that may also be why I am willing to put it off!)

     Phew, my head hurts after all that so I can’t imagine how yours feels (assuming you actually read it all, ha)! Hopefully I didn’t bore you too badly.. :)