For a few years now I have been wanting/needing a bigger space. A two bedroom apartment was okay…but with the addition of my daughter and my boys getting older…space was needed. After my daughter was born, my parents had given me an option of renting out their house. They were going to be reuniting and looking for a new place of their own. This sounded like the perfect thing, but this was just coming off of a huge family blowup. Did I really want to do this right now? I was trying to get myself back to “normal” and stay there. Yes, financially, it was the smartest thing to do…but mentally, I wasn’t there. So I decided Continue reading →

So,

If you know me or follow the blog, you will recognize that any and every situation in my life always comes with a story. Nothing just happens. There is always an elaborate group of events that take place for any simple act. Why did I think this pregnancy would be any different? 🤷🏾‍♀️ Marlee was clearly my child from day one. Let’s start from the beginning.

Finding out I was pregnant was a roller coaster of emotions. I was single and actually single lol. It was a month before my birthday…Mother’s Day weekend when I found out. I didn’t know what to do or expect. I drank…which made me sick…which made the pregnancy stick in even more.

This pregnancy was definitely not like being pregnant with the boys. I was nauseous, pelvic pain early on, and exhausted 24/7. I felt like I was 9 months pregnant pretty much from day one. Mentally, I was going through a lot(which will be talked about on a different post) and emotionally, I was all over the place. But, life was still forming and had to go on. Working, surprisingly, helped to keep me sane. I never wanted to go to an office as much as I did while I was pregnant. Fast forward to my 8th month check up…I was at the doctor and was told I was measuring a lot further than what I was. An ultrasound proved this and the baby was already weighing more than she should. A weight was lifted! I was in so much pain and this was proof that she was going to come soon. No more sleeping on the couch in pain…no more not being able to walk in a store and shop without being in pain…no more not being able to eat without being in pain…you get where I’m going. So, I prepared for her early arrival…that never happened 😩😩.

January was here. Her birth month. Pain and exhaustion was still here. I was beyond done with this pregnancy. I just wanted to get back to my somewhat normal life. That day, I went to work and felt shaky pretty much the whole day. I decided to go to the ER afterwards just in case. I arrived and found that my blood pressure was extremely high…but contractions weren’t causing anything so no active labor. Preeclampsia was diagnosed and I became a little excited…they deliver when you have that right? WRONG! 6 hours later…I was sent home. I decided to stop working on that day and take maternity leave. Two days later, I followed up at my doctor’s office. I didn’t even want to go because I knew they would give me the same ole story, but I went. Doctor tries to find her heartbeat and there was nothing…which was kind of normal at this point…she always hid from them. But the doctor was a little worried and asked if the baby was moving…which she really hadn’t that whole day. She became worried and said we would do an ultrasound. I said okay, trying to stay calm, and opened the door. The fire alarm began to go off! This of course gave me a heart attack so now I was definitely on high alert. She rushed me over to get an ultrasound and they found the heartbeat…but my blood pressure was sky high. The doctor comes in. “I called you the night you left the ER. I was going to tell you to stay there so we can monitor you. So, we are just going to go ahead and deliver her in the morning. You can go to the hospital from here.” I felt like I was in the twilight zone. Did she just say the magical words I had been waiting for?? Nah…she was just playing. The joke was on me right? Everyone left the room and told me congratulations. I still sat there in shock.

Fast forward, I call the important people and tell them WE ARE HAVING A BABY TOMORROW!! I go home, clean and cook like a crazy woman, and get to the hospital. Hooked up to the machines…I’m on cloud nine. Nothing could take away my happiness. Doctor comes in…”so your blood pressure is normal now and that means we can’t induce you. We can keep you overnight and do another ultrasound and see what the specialist says.” Excuse the fuck out of me???? Nah…what do you mean we have to wait?! You specifically said We👏🏾Are👏🏾Delivering👏🏾In👏🏾The👏🏾Morning! I will throw myself out this window just to get this child out. Her dad is coming from out of town…a baby has to be born. Of course, these were all my thoughts in my head as I just slowly nodded towards her. I gathered myself and my thoughts and reassured that everything would be okay tomorrow. She would be born. OR ELSE!

Afternoon comes…her dad’s there…my mom is there…and I’m over it all. My blood pressure was still normal and I had the ultrasound which basically proved what the previous ultrasound showed. She was big as hell and not moving as much because there was no space. I hadn’t eaten anything due to their orders and my head was spinning. My attitude was horrible and my ass was hurting from sitting in that bed the whole night. I had been getting only updates saying that we wouldn’t be delivering today which made me even more upset. Why would I have to keep going through all of this especially when she was developed? The specialist comes in and finally says, “Your heart rate is extremely high even though your blood pressure is fine and her lack of movement worries me. I contacted your doctor and we scheduled the c section for 3:30pm.” I could’ve cried if I didn’t think that she was lying and that this too, would fall through. My mom was happy…dad was a little apprehensive and I was still on the fence. I was waiting for the ball to drop. 3:00 came and the nurse entered with the ball I had been waiting for. “Your doctor won’t be able to come until around 6.” Excuse me?! Sooooo…now I have to wait even longer…with no food or water? What if she doesn’t come at 6? What if she comes and they change their mind? Was this baby ever going to come out of me? My mom was extra pissed and filed a complaint and asked for another doctor. I just buried my face in my hand and prayed that I wouldn’t pass out from dehydration. 6 came and the doctor finally walked in. We all said nothing to her lol.

Finally, it was happening. Dad had on his scrubs…I had my epidural(which was probably put in wrong according to Dad and the pain I had)…I was being wheeled into the operating room. I was finally happy…until I felt an overwhelming desire to throw up. Normally…I toughen through things…but I don’t do throw up. I panicked and asked for medicine and tried to calm myself down. I wanted to pass out but didn’t want to cause any commotion. I felt the tugging and pressure which didn’t help my lack of oxygen. I asked for an oxygen mask and slowly felt better. Several drawn out minutes later…I could feel her being pulled out. It was borderline painful, but I didn’t complain. I could hear her screams and I was elated. Even with the chills, the nausea, and the fact that I could still feel pretty much everything…I was in a euphoric state. She was finally here.

The biggest thing I learned throughout this was to be more vocal when I feel something. I had been feeling horrible the entire time and was constantly brushed off. No one took me serious until I started being adamant about my ailments and taking action by going to the ER. She did not descend into the birth canal and was essentially stuck, hence the lack of movement. Health is important but when you feel like no one is listening, you start to question if these doctors are really here to help. My experience definitely has me side eyeing the whole business behind pregnancy and health in general. But, luckily, I stuck to my guns and she was healthy. Thank God this was my girl because I definitely will not being going through that again. 😊 A special salute to all the mothers out there…we really put our life on the line for these kids and don’t get enough credit for it.

I started this post writing about how I moved to California and had to move back to Atlanta 4 months later, but decided that wasn’t the story I wanted to tell. My real story has to do with the journey that moving back forced me to be on. When I moved to California, it was out of the blue. I moved because I wanted to change what was going on in my life. I thought if I had more people around me that were like me, had more opportunities to relax and just be in a different setting, I would magically be cured and start loving my life. That was quickly dismissed when I saw that the same bs was happening in California that was happening here. Granted, a lot of the bs was off of assumptions and lack of communication, but it was still happening. When I moved back, I felt like a failure. I had so much positive energy when I moved, but it slowly broke down and turned into negative energy. I felt just as worse than when I first left. I decided to channel this energy and figure out what was really going on. I realized that I knew absolutely nothing about myself. I didn’t know what I really liked. I didn’t know who I really was. This was why I was so easily dismissed by others. I mean, who is going to respect someone who has no presence?

I decided that it was time to find me…the real Jeanine. Not who others wanted me to be, but really who I was. So, how does one do this when they are jobless and stuck at home with their parents at 30? I’m glad you asked. There is no real answer to this. What worked for me was focusing on the good and focusing on the joys of learning more about myself. Did I have bad days? Yes. Did I have days where I wanted to just give up? Of course. Luckily, my support system, (my bf), helped to pull me through. I have never been a social person. I am an introvert to a fault. I barely talk to my own family, but having that one person to open up to helped me understand more about myself when I could no longer see myself. This is the major key into successfully completing a journey like this.

My journey is still going on. I honestly feel as if it will never end. I am learning more about simple things that I love. Hair styles, makeup, different practices in life…things that make me feel like myself. Instead of putting things off, I am challenging myself to take them head on. This post, for instance, is nowhere near perfect or what I wanted to write after taking such a hiatus, but it needed to be done. Writing has always been my thing and I sadly, started to let it slip away out of fear that I was not good enough or wrote like everyone else. But, hey, that’s what makes me different. I am Jeanine. No one else can be like me. At 30, I am no longer worried about fitting in. I am more worried about loving and living my life.

Dealing with depression all my life has made me realize that I really have a choice in how I want to live the rest of my life. I can mope around all day or I can actively try to make a change. And even when I try and things go wrong, it is not the end of the world. It is not an evil ploy by God to make every day harder. It is genuinely just life. Shit happens and happens often. The way you respond and react is the difference. This is the lesson that has taken me so long to learn. But I am optimistic that now I can finally learn this lesson and move on to my next journey.