Remember when I said I had the worst stomach flu EVER?
|The Horn Clan|
That's right, folks, looks like it's going to Irish twins for the Horn Clan. And I can honestly say, no one is more surprised than I am!
Last Friday, I finally caved, after two weeks of craptacular pukiness and went to the local urgent care. I described my symptoms and I was asked, "Could you be pregnant?"
To which I responded, "No way, Jose!"
"Well, let's do a test, just to be absolutely certain."
"Fine. But I'm not going to be." I responded in my most petulant, teenagerie voice.
Ten minutes elapse
The doctor enters my room and clears and throat and says, "Mrs. Horn, you are pregnant."
"NO FUCKING WAY! It isn't possible." I practically scream because, you know, classy is my middle name.
"I'm afraid it's true."
"No Doc, you don't understand. I have an IUD. AND my husband and I have had sex ONCE since my second daughter was born 4 months ago, as he likes to remind me, daily. THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE."
"You have an IUD? You need to go to a OB, today. Tell me about your past pregnancies."
I list the plethora of problems I've had.
"Hmm. That needs to be a high risk OB. Let me make some calls, I'll be right back."
Twenty minutes later, I find myself on my way to the high risk OB.
The whole drive, I'm just dumbfounded. My mind still hasn't completely wrapped around it a week later. I will admit to initially not being happy about it because, let's just say, enough time hasn't gone by to "dull" the memories of the last disaster. While my oven seems to bake 'em just fine, the door sticks and I am scared of another c-section. By scared, I mean that sensation of waking up, not able to breathe, in a cold sweat from a nightmare where Freddy was chasing me down Elm Street with Jason's chainsaw into a field filled with those creepy children of the corn surrounded by flesh eating zombies with atomic bombs strapped to their chests. Yeah, that kind of scared. Or maybe I just shouldn't watch that many horror flicks.
The OB managed to reassure me that I will not have to do another c-section without anesthesia, that women have back to back pregnancies all the time, and, no, my uterus won't just explode open. However, she did also explain while everything looks healthy now, there is an exponentially higher risk of miscarriage, and GD, given my history of both.
So, how did The Firefighter take all this? Better than me, that's for sure. When I called and told him, because as you other wives of firefighters know this kind of crap only happens when they are on duty, he laughed and said, "Oh that's good. I'm happy for you. Is it mine?"
The Firefighter is fond of the taste of shoe leather, and while it's a rare occurrence, I wasn't in the mood for humor. So, I may have been a little bit bitchy back. Okay, Okay, you got me, a huge bit bitchy.
"Of course it is, Jackass. If I don't wanna have sex with you, do you really think I wanna have it with someone else where I might actually have to work at it?"
Luckily, my husband is a good man and understands me well enough to know that I'm like a wild animal in that I only bite when I'm freaked out. He just laughed and reassured me that he was joking, it will all be okay, and he is very happy about it.
Now, I'm not much of a God person, or a believer in fate, but I have to say, with all the odds stacked against the creation of this child, he or she must be meant to be here. And I've made peace with this pregnancy with that thought.
We are BOTH getting neutered. ASAP. No ifs and or buts.