First time lucky

When I first found out I was pregnant, it was about two weeks after being told by a gynaecologist
 that I may 'require help'if I was to ever conceive. I had to undergo a particularly unpleasant procedure 'down there' (no - I did not have any horrible diseases) which under usual circumstances would result in miscarriage. I even had to sign paperwork to say that I was not pregnant or planning to fall pregnant within the following six months. I had no idea that I actually had a four week old foetus inside of me, who not only defied the odds of getting there in the first place, but also survived the potentially disastrous surgery that could have resulted in her never being here.
The way in which I discovered the pregnancy was also quite bizarre. My best friend Amanda was going through a 'psychic'stage, and was at the time right into reading peoples'tarot cards, angel cards and all the other things that psychics do. Amanda and I have always been very close and seemed to share many 'psychic'moments throughout our lives, like for example, I would pick up the phone to ring her and she would be just sitting there on the other end of the line....spooky stuff like that. Anyways, it was Valentines day in 2007, Joe and I had been married for four months, and were getting ready to go out for dinner that night. At about 5pm, Amanda called and said 'go buy yourself a pregnancy test...I had a dream and you were holding a baby girl. You are DEFINITELY pregnant. Do not fight it. Buy the test. NOW. ' Of course my response was'something along the lines of 'Yeah yeah, whatever, there is absolutely no way I can be...even if I was I had that surgery remember?? Yada yada yada..Leave me alone, I'm off for a romantic dinner now..'  And yet she persisted, saying 'I will continue to ring you on the hour, every hour until you get one and put me out of my misery. 'And she did....so I finally buckled and bought a test from the chemist on the way to dinner.
When we returned at about 10pm that night, the test was sitting there, so I thought I would do the test - which would obviously be negative, and shove it fair up Amanda's nose the next morning. So I peed on the stick, placed it on the window sill and kind of forgot about it. Laying in bed about an hour later Joe asked if I had checked the test..I got up and grabbed it, saw two blue lines and said "see, not pregnant', was about to throw it in the bin when I caught a glimpse of the instruction page. Two lines meant pregnant. I remember studying that diagram for so long trying to work out if I was reading it right, when suddenly I felt this massive fear hit my body with such a force. My first words were not so charming...and Joe's weren't much nicer. Yet we were very happy...just so SHOCKED!.
I was instantly worried that the baby wouldn't have survived the surgery and of course I didn't sleep a wink that night.
I got up in the morning to the soon-to-be familiar feeling of morning sickness. I thought it might have been a bit of a trick of the mind...but the morning sickness decided to settle in and stay with me right up until 7 months...I called work and told them I wouldn't be coming in today (as I was in too much shock) and stayed home and between vomiting, spent the day stressing over every little thing that could possibly go wrong. I contacted Joe's Doctor, who was a well known Obstetrician, and luckily was accepted as a patient. Yet I was told I couldn't get in for two more weeks!!!!
I made a trip to town and purchased about six different brands of pregnancy tests, which all showed the same result...I rang my Mum, (who didn't believe me) and yelled at Amanda for jinxing me.
The pregnancy progressed in the usual way; but I still to this day can not believe how utterly exhausted I was. Looking back now I can see that it had a lot to do with my depression. I was having anxiety attacks every day, my blood pressure was so high that I now take medication for life, I had EVERY known pregnancy complication from oedema to carpal tunnel to restless legs at night. And I was sooo puffy. I remember one day attempting some weeding. It was quite a warm day and I was about 7 months along. When I stood up I had the grass imprints in my legs, and they stayed there for days. My gums bled every time I brushed my teeth, I was vomiting pretty much all day ( I really thought I would vomit the baby up sometimes) yet piling weight on like crazy. People told me I was glowing...I told them it was probably sweat.
When my due date rolled around I can honestly say that I was NOT one of those women who were overjoyed and eager to 'get this baby out'. I had no desire to start labour. I wanted a cesarean. I begged and begged my Doctor from day one and he stood his ground, saying over and over 'You're tough Megan, you can do it". I did not want to meet this baby just yet. And yes I was shallow - I only wanted a girl. There was not a single atom in my body that wanted a boy. Many will judge but it was the truth. So I think I had convinced myself from day one that it was going to be a boy, so when he was born it wouldn't be such a suprise. Amanda was the only one who insisted it was a girl. I had the ring test, the shape of my bump test, the rate of heartbeat test, the Chinese birth chart test...everyone around me was guessing boy. So I went along with it.
Two weeks after my due dat, my Doctor told me I was going to have to be induced. So off we went to hospital, and got things underway. And it was bad. The pain was sudden and hit my like a truck. The induction was started at 6pm on a Monday night...The first lot of gel began to work and contractions started a couple of hours later. When you are induced your body has no real 'warm up'contractions. You can be just sitting there when suddenly BOOM!! Theres the first one. Joe was up with me ALL night rubbing my back with a tennis ball and doing all sorts of annoying things.  The second gel was applied at midnight, and I told them I was not sleeping and was tired and in so so so much pain, so I was given some panadol - PANADOL????, and some sleeping tablets. They may as well have given me a bandaid as nothing helped. Even the Pethidine didn't take the edge. At 8am, (yes - still awake. And exhausted), my Doctor came in to break my waters and family was called to come in and wait as it was ímminent'. LIES! It went on forever!!.One of the lowest points of my life was hovering over a fitness ball stark naked in the bottom of the shower with three midwives , my Doctor, my Mum and Mother in Law and Joe, having a lovely chat while I rolled and lolled down below hollering in pain. My Mum was actually laughing at the look on my face...
Afterwards I was taken to the labor ward and after begging for an epidural it was agreed I should have one. And of course the two anaesthetists were missing. No one could find them. So finally three hours later a local Doctor came to my rescue between patients and after hitting nerves which made my legs go berserk, a lovely numbness flooded throughout my body. Why the hell did I not get one last night?? So the next few hours were lovely, I had cups of tea and chatted to the midwives whilst watching Dr Phil. At 3pm I was fully dilated and still completely pain free. I started to push and the baby's head was'crowning and I was told "This is brilliant Megan..you are going to have this baby in the next ten minutes without any pain'.....if only. It was the most horrible experience of my life. The pain was hideous, and Joe kept trying to be helpful and was rubbing my feet (which I couldn't feel anyway) and ran off to get me a lotus scented candle that he had bought to keep me calm. Of course I screamed at him 'What the FUCK is a candle gong to do for me right now?!?!?!' . Yet he tried and really, he was outstanding. The baby got stuck of course, and to cut a long gruesome story short, I will just say the epidural was for whatever reason switched off, I was cut, torn and finally with Doc's foot on the edge of the bed for leverage - the baby was yanked out. The damage was bad, but I did not even notice when they handed my beautiful baby to me. What's more is it wasn't until a few minutes had gone by that I realised I 'd had a girl.
We named her Lucy Isabella, and she really was, and is totally perfect.