Deployed Mommy: One Month In

Deployed Mommy: One Month In

The time that I have been both dreading and anxious for is finally here. I am on my first deployment.

We left Savannah around 0900 on a Monday morning and rode the same plane all the way to our final destination on Tuesday night at around midnight. It was a loooooooooong trip over here.

First we stopped in New Hampshire. When we got there, there was an entire terminal dedicated to soldiers, airmen, sailors and contractors to enjoy some coffee and donuts before the long haul overseas. There were WWII, Vietnam, and current veterans there to talk to us and see us off. They even gave us a little history of how that terminal is there to provide support as the last stop before deployment. It was so sweet and they even did a short little ceremony where they said a prayer and sang the national anthem. It was an amazing send off!

Next stop, Ireland. They let us get off the plane, stretch our legs, grab breakfast and they allowed us to have one beer. We were in Ireland so naturally everyone wanted to try a Guinness and eat a traditional Irish breakfast. After we walked through customs and headed towards the restrooms, we see about 10 really tall, built dudes in black suits. I made the joke, “What are they secret service or something??”

Well….. yes. Yes they were. Lo and behold, Ivanka Trump and some White House staff were at the bar. It was midnight. We were in Ireland. And Ivanka Trump bought everyone a beer and breakfast. Probably the most random Tuesday of my life.

Next stop was Greece for a crew change. They told us we would be there for about an hour and to not get off the plane. I kept dozing in and out of sleep and every time I looked out the window we were still grounded! FOUR. HOURS. LATER. We finally took off to our final destination. It was brutal.

It has now been one month overseas. That’s one month of hard work. One month of heat. And one month away from my family.

We have officially reached Groundhog Day status. Living the same day every day. I wake up at 0500 and at 0545 I start my half mile trek to my work site. I work until around 4pm and then I go to the gym. Then it’s another half mile trek in the desert heat to go eat dinner, and another half mile trek back to the room. Needless to say, I’ve already lost 11 pounds since I’ve been here.

Besides the extreme temperatures and the even hotter wind, the hardest part is really just missing my family. The time difference is so drastic, that I can mostly FaceTime them just on the weekends. Daycare and bedtime are both tricky and if I want to see my family during the week I’d have to wake up at around 3am. Even though I work weekends, I still look forward to them because I know I’ll get to see them a lot.

When I get to see Noah it’s either so sweet I just want to cry with all the things he wants to say and show me, OR, it can get really heartbreaking because he’ll just cry and say “Mommyyyyyyyy”. It’s really tough when he’s like that.

Regardless of that, Cedrik is truly killing it at home. They have a good schedule, they’re eating good every night and all of Noah’s outfits match – which is a huge relief.

I turned 30 a few weeks ago! It was a very eventful birthday week. I was able to take my first day off since we had arrived here and it was going to be an awesome day. Except it wasn’t. Every week on Wednesday they do surf n turf. Since I had already tried it I went to go eat it again. I spent the rest of the afternoon and the following 5 days playing Russian Roulette with my guts. I had about a 10 second grace period to get to the bathroom. I went through an entire bottle of Pepto Max, drank what seemed like a million gallons of water and prayed to God to please let this not be the way I go. On the 4th day of feeling like an active volcano, I finally decided to take my ass (literally) to medical. In an interesting turn of events, I was told that 13 other people reported being sick from that exact same meal. Now, public health is getting involved and they’re doing an investigation. Cray-zee. And that’s how I spent my 30th birthday. Yayyyyyyyy-no. Now my diet consists off dry ass chicken, with some dry ass rice, and a salad. Yippee.

For entertainment over here I’ve been going every Thursday and Sunday night to play bingo like an old lady. On my one off day I have a whole routine. I sleep in and then I go get a coffee and a muffin. Then I go to the gym and just relax and play Xbox all day.

Ramadan just ended so I will start seeing about going off base and seeing what adventures I can get myself into.

Until next time.

What Kind of Mom Am I….?

What Kind of Mom Am I….?

I tend to ask myself this question every day. As mommies, we never feel like we’re doing it right, or less than perfect. So without further ado, here’s what kind of mother I am.

I am a hugger. No. A squeezer. I am a kisser. Like a lot. Right in the mouth. I am a Chick Fil A mom and no I don’t always order grilled nuggets. (So sue me). I am a baby wipe mom-to clean butts, faces, shoes, counter tops, chairs, my car, you name it. I am a “let’s get you to daycare in time for breakfast” mom. I am the mother of a two year old with a tablet newer than mine. I am a “he doesn’t need anything else” mom and then I later go buy way too many unnecessary toys. I am a nose picker mom. Shove my giant finger up that lil baby’s nostrils and fish those boogies out. I am a no shame mom. I am the mother of a two year old who still uses a paci. I am a mother who gets criticized for having a two year old with a paci. I am a mother who doesn’t care about being criticized about having a two year old with a paci.

I am a military mom. I check on my son at least three times before I go to sleep so I can soak in as much of him as I can before my deployment this year. I am an EXTRA squeezer here lately. I am a sad mom sometimes but grateful for technology for when I’m gone. I am a worried mom that he won’t always have matching clothes to daycare when I’m gone; or that dad didn’t scrub his hair enough during bath time. I am a stressed mom because I pay attention to the little things and dad is more a big picture kind of guy. I am a grateful mom. Without my husband, I couldn’t do any of it.

I am an oversharing mom. Everybody gets videos and pics of my son and I have no shame. I am a messy mom. But like, organized chaos. I am a dog mom and now I am a fish mom because my husband has no self control AND NOW WE HAVE 8……. *deep breath*

Finally, I am a proud mom. I made that kid and he is awesome. I am not perfect but I am perfect to him. On Saturdays when I look like a crazy bag lady all day, all my son wants to do is love on me and play.

I am his mom. And I’m fine with all of that.

Dear Zeus,

img_0766I’m so sorry.

Yesterday I made one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make. And today I had to follow through on that decision.

April 7th, 2009 is your birthday. I’ve had you since you were 3 months old! You were such a fun pup. My mom was so mad at me for getting you because I had a job at the time and she said everywhere I went, you went too! So guess what buddy? I took you to work, the beach, the bars and literally everywhere. You were my best friend!

I took you to Mississippi with me and we spent 3 fun years there too! I took you kayaking, I took you to the dog park WEEKLY, and I used to set up doggie play dates for you!

In 2010 I met Cedrik and in 2012 you met him. The second he walked through our apartment door you jumped on the couch and peed on it! I got so mad at you! I spanked you and sent you to your bed. But Cedrik came with Snoopy! You guys didn’t hit it off the first day but after the initial meeting, you two became BFF’s!

Cedrik and Snoopy invited us to come live with them in Savannah, Ga and we happily obliged! We got married and you and Snoopy became official brothers! We had so much fun! And you were never alone during the day again!

While we still had fun, I know we stopped doing a lot of the fun things I used to involve you in. We stopped going to doggie parks and I didn’t have any friends to set up play dates with. At least you and Snoopy had a big back yard to play in!

In 2015 I started getting really fat and cried into your fur for weird things, but you didn’t care. You were loving every minute of it! One day, Cedrik and I had to leave the house in a hurry and you were so confused and concerned! I gave you a pat on the head and said I’d see you soon.

Three days later I returned with another human! A little tiny one! You were so curious and stressed out that first week! Every time he cried, you cried. Every time I picked him up, you stared him down and sniffed him all over! I thought you two would be buds!

I went about this whole baby/doggie integration thing completely wrong. Every time you got near the baby I would say “No!” or “Go!” No wonder you were stressed out! And I’m so sorry for that. As the baby got older, you started getting more and more tense around him.

One day, the tiny human was playing with Cedrik and you thought Cedrik was being attacked! So out of instinct, you lunged at the baby and nipped him on his cheek! I screamed. Cedrik screamed. And you got a spanking. We were so angry at you, we discussed several options. Ultimately, you don’t just give away a family member because of one small incident so we decided to just be patient with you to see if you could get along with the baby.

Things were fine since then. Until yesterday. The tiny human got too close to you and you got so angry, you bit him on the mouth. He bled a lot. He bled so much that we couldn’t really see the damage so we took him to the ER. I screamed a lot. And Cedrik yelled at you and you got another spanking. Luckily he is okay and will probably just have a small scar at the most. You bit him hard, Zeus and it was very scary.

I’m sorry, Zeus. I’m sorry I didn’t do more research on how to get you ready for a baby human. I’m sorry I created a tense environment for you. I’m sorry I always got angry instead of trying to work with you.

Because of this incident, Zeus, I decided it is not safe for you to be near the baby anymore. I have decided it will be less stressful for you and more safe for the tiny human if you go live with my friend, Lyndsey. Remember her, Zeus? She used to go with us on all our adventures back in the day and you love her!

She has a dog named Charley and he looks sort of like Snoopy! She already loves you so much so you don’t even have to go with a stranger! I know she will take great care of you Zeus da moose. You will be much happier and much more stress free with her.

You will always be my first baby. My spotty boy. My lumpy head. My moo moo. My Zeus da Moose.

The past 8 years have been a blast big boy.

I love you. I miss you. And I’m so sorry.

Being Away: 1 Month

Being Away: 1 Month

I made it.  One month. 2 and a half weeks to go.

I made a 100 on my second and third tests and nothing or no one is keeping me from graduating!  I got my eyes set on the end and nothing can bring me down.

Before I came to Texas, I was told by practically everyone, even doctors, that I would not be able to resume breastfeeding after these 6 weeks.  Well guess what?  With a little determination, a LOT of pumping, a hope and a prayer, I have been able to keep a steady supply all on my own.  TAKE THAT SCIENCE!  (or is it biology?)  All that work, an entire foam cooler of breast milk that never made it home, people telling me to just let it go… I overcame!  In two weeks, I will see my lil peanut again and we can go back to breastfeeding until his first birthday like I originally planned.  BOOM. *drops mic*

Baby Noah is a crawling machine and he just recently started pulling himself up on things to stand! *faints*  I feel like I am missing everything 😦 I missed his whole crawling phase and now this… I cannot wait to squeeze that little guy.

Cedrik is still doing ok but I think his energy is slowly but surely starting to wear down.  I feel bad for the hubs but I’m sort of glad he’s going through it.  For the first 6 months of Noah’s life, he was working on testing for Master Sergeant.  That means he would work 10 hours a day, and then come home to study.  Or he would stay at work longer to study.  So what did that mean for me? 24/7 baby duty.  He changed the occasional baby diaper, but occasional diaper changes don’t even tap into your energy stash.  Now that he’s doing everything, he’s had a front row seat to being a full-time parent, and full-time military. It’s tough work but we can tackle it together when I get back.

I went bowling with some classmates last weekend.  It was actually pretty fun!  There were TV’s at the end of each lane where you could choose what you wanted to watch in your lane.  The place was packed and we had to wait an hour and a half for a lane, but luckily there was a margarita place called Chuy’s right across the street where we passed the time.


Last weekend I also got to see a very good friend from high school!  Katherine and I are more like sisters, so it was so amazing to get to spend a day with her.  This weekend we’re going on a super fun outdoor adventure, so I’m pretty excited we get to see each other again.  She lives in Austin now, and I haven’t seen her in about 5 or 6 years!  So much fun!

After this coming weekend, I will just have one more weekend to spend here before I start packing my bags for the trip back!  Cedrik and Noah are coming for my graduation and to accompany me on the drive back.  Knowing they are coming has given me more motivation than ever.  I can see the light at the end of the tunnel!  Being away from your family really makes you appreciate every single minute you have with them.  This has been tough, but I am on the home stretch now.

Chapter 6: The Aftermath

The moment we had all been waiting for was here. Our little Peanut had finally made his grand entrance into the world and we were just in love.

As soon as they sewed me back up from the C section, they wheeled me in the bed to a recovery room of some sorts. I could see Cedrik holding our little guy as they examined him and whatever else. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on him! He was so little and gray and wasn’t making a peep.

The nurse was asking me questions (I think) but all I could do was stare in amazement. What just happened? A tiny human being – like a future businessman or police officer or actor or Patriots quarterback – just came out of me. Whoa.

Finally, the moment of truth.

“Are you ready to hold your baby and try to nurse?” – I don’t know who said it.


I was ready. 9 months of YouTube had prepared me for this moment. I already knew what to do: football hold, bring baby to nipple, stay calm, stare forever. The nurse tried to do her job and instruct me but I was steps ahead of her.

“You’ve done this before I see!”

“Nope. YouTube.” I said, proudly.

I was prepared for the “how to” portion of nursing. What I wasn’t prepared for was the bursting of emotions that would occur from it. You know that high pitched noise in movies when they pull all the sound out for a key moment and you see people’s mouths moving in slow motion but there’s no audible? It was like that. Tears. Just more tears. And more tears. Nurses were talking, but all I could zero in on was my little Noah.

He was just there, nursing as if he had been training for it in the womb. His little cheeks and mouth moving like he hadn’t eaten since he was conceived. I was aware that all babies don’t latch right away and that it might take some work.  I was aware that breastfeeding wasn’t for everyone and that I might not be able to do it.  I was aware that with a little persistence, a difficult latch could be fixed.  I was NOT aware of the fact that a newborn baby had the sucking power of a fresh-out-the-box Hoover vacuum cleaner.  Now THAT was definitely a surprise.  A little grit of the teeth and it wasn’t that bad. *sheds tear*

Cedrik and I were just staring with tears in our eyes. At him, at each other. It was very surreal.  After who knows how long, I asked Cedrik if he could tag out and send mom in for a few minutes. At first he didn’t want to leave so I just let him stay and enjoy the moment for as long as he wanted.

“Ok, I’ll send her in”, he said.

As soon as he left, I looked up and realized I was in another “bullpen” type room where I also realized there were other mothers recovering. Low and behold, someone left the curtain a little open in front of me. There she was…… Gypsie lady and her new gypsie baby (see Chapter 5). Instead of wanting to strangle her this time, I just smiled at her. She didn’t see me, but I was happy for her.

After a few moments, I heard my mom basically sprint down the hall and come into the recovery room. “Oh my God he is so little and looks like a tiny squirrel!”
We burst out laughing together with tears rolling down our faces. I don’t think I had ever seen that type of joy in her. The nurse then asked her to hold him while they checked both of our vitals. Of course she was overjoyed and was extremely eager to do so.

It was during this time two nurses wrapped me up in this big white velcro band. I was still numb from the morphine but I could feel the pressure from it. It felt like all my guts and insides were being held in place by a lovely hug. It was really nice.

Finally, they were ready to move us to our own room and they gave me Noah back. Mom and Cedrik tagged out again and we were all off to the private room together.

At this point, everyone was starving and I was informed to just eat juice and crackers because anything I ate post surgery would surely make me vomit.  Obviously, they didn’t know they were dealing with ole Iron Gut (no one has ever called me that btw).  Juice and crackers? Puh-lease. I sent Cedrik to get me a giant cheeseburger from McDonald’s and a Sprite.  I ate the juice and crackers while I waited for him to return.

We enjoyed a few hours of family, baby and cheeseburgers and then it was time for everyone to leave around 6pm.  It was just me, Cedrik and Noah again.  Cedrik passed out because of all the hard work he just went through *wipes sarcasm off that last sentence*.  So now it was just me and baby.

Eyes Open

Now what?  He’s here and I have no idea what to do.  He was supposed to sleep in a little rolling bed/shelf/box thingy but I couldn’t seem to let go of him.  The first night I just sat there in the hospital bed, holding him and staring at him.  The night nurse came in and refilled my ice water like a thousand times.  No one tells you how thirsty you get after having a baby!  She checked mine and the baby’s vitals every 2 hours so even if I wanted to sleep, it would have been for nothing.  Peanut pretty much slept the whole time (a trait I wish he would have kept) only waking for feedings every once in a while *RIP nipples*

I spent my first night as a mom having a staring contest with a little version of me, except I was the only one playing.


first night
The first night.

When the shift changed and a new nurse came in the next morning, she asked me how many diapers I had changed.  SHIT!  I guess I DO have to do that now.  Cedrik and I looked at each other like OOPS and then I said,  “Umm, none?”  She just looked at me funny and said, “Yeah you may need to do that every once in a while.”

What I wanted to say was “Bitch, don’t you antagonise me, I just had a human sliced out of me like an avocado pit and all you can do is judge me for forgetting I needed to change diapers?!”  But what I actually said was, “We’ll remember from now on.”

At my next vitals check, the nurse was checking my little hug wrap thingy and apparently I had bled all the way through bandages and the wrap so she took it off me and bandaged me back up, but didn’t put my wrap back on.  I didn’t ask any questions because everything moves in fast forward when you’re in a hospital and I felt totally clueless.  The next day when my doctor came in to check my wounds and when she noticed that my wrap wasn’t on, she turned into a nicer version of Maleficent.


“My what?” – I said in a stoner voice


“Umm, the night nurse took it off?” – I was terrified.  She was so pissed.


I watched my doctor have a personal little power struggle with herself and at that moment, the nurse walked in.  I had a little mini heart attack.  I thought for sure I was about to witness a homicide.


“She bled through hers so we took it off.”


While I felt sorry for the nurse for being yelled at in front of me, I kind of thought the doctor had a point.  Still, it seemed like all the people in the hospital were terrified of her.

After about 24 hours post birth, they removed my catheter.  It was time for me to try to stand up and use the restroom on my own.  Let me tell you, that sounds like nothing, but 24 hours after a C section, it seemed like they were asking me to go run a marathon.  Just turning to put my feet on the ground felt like my midsection was just going to tear open like a ziploc bag.  I was still on narcotics, so I wasn’t in THAT much pain.  But no amount of narcotics can prevent ALL the pain.  With a lot of help from the nurse and Cedrik, I did it.  I stood up.  And that’s about as far as I made it that first time.  We tried again about a half hour later and we walked, very slowly, to the bathroom.  Now to sit on the toilet… Well, I could write a whole other blog on just that but I’ll just spare you the details.

Just kidding I will tell you all about it!

It was bloody.  Like SUPER bloody.  It took about 5 whole minutes of just cleaning up in there.  The nurse gave me these AMAZING mesh underwear.  That’s not sarcasm folks, those panties were truly a miracle.  So comfy.  She also gave me these giant maxi pads that I’m 100% sure could have saved the Titanic from that iceberg scrape.  Those were super sexy too.

The doctor told me that I could shower in about another 24 hours (2 days after giving birth).  I was excited for that, and I also was terrified of it.  I was barely starting to get the feeling back in my legs!  When the time came, I was too scared to even look down at my wounds.  I stood in the shower facing away from it and watched the floor of it fill up with blood from my midsection (and other places).  I was so thankful that I packed some good smelling body wash.

Our last night in the hospital and we would be all set to go home with our little guy in the morning.  I was able to slowly get in and out of the bed on my own, and I was able to stand at the sink for about 5 minutes to brush my teeth.  That last night while Cedrik and baby slept, I had to fill out all the paperwork for his birth certificate, I had to read this whole packet on newborn care for the first few days, and  I also had to read like a whole pamphlet on circumcision care.

The next morning, before we left, it was required for us to make an appointment with a pediatrician in 3 days.  Crap!  I never picked one!  While I immediately got on my phone and started Googling local pediatricians, the nurse recommended a few to us so I basically just picked the closest one.  That was done.

And now for the packing and going home part.

As if healing from surgery wasn’t enough, but I had to watch as Cedrik just shoved everything “wherever”.  SOMEBODY was ready to go.  We called for “transportation” and a nurse I had never seen before showed up with a wheelchair.  Cedrik went ahead to get the car and mom stayed with me as they wheeled me downstairs.

ALAS!  Cedrik had properly installed the car seat and we were about to take it and baby Noah for a test drive!  Literally!

And off we went on the ride home.

*deep breaths*

Let's Go Home
Taking this lil guy home 🙂




Chapter 4: The Calm Before the Storm

Tuesday, November 3rd, 2015.  T-minus 12 days until delivery.

I went in for my 37 week ultrasound and I was informed by my OB that we needed to check into the hospital on the following Monday, the 9th to induce labor. Peanut was getting too big too quick and she didn’t want me to have a difficult natural birth. Well, neither did I!

That same evening while relaxing on my couch, I felt as if my brain was going to explode! The worst headache I have ever had in my entire life. It literally kept me up all night until 8am when I could call the Doctor’s office to ask them what to do. They advised me to come back in immediately and to have my husband drive me. I had already been warned of signs for preeclampsia (if you want to call a Google search “being warned”), so Cedrik went ahead and put our hospital bags in the Jeep just in case. When we got there, they concluded that the cause of this horrendous brain buster was a blood pressure reading of 190/100! They gave me blood pressure meds and some serious narcotics and sent me home. Ain’t that some crazy shit? You are definitely not allowed to take Aleve for all your pregnancy symptoms, but by all means, take these highly potent narcotics for pain. Your baby will be fine. Regardless, I was grateful for them.

We were still on for Monday the 9th. If all went well, we would have our little Peanut by Tuesday the 10th at 11am.

I couldn’t believe it. I had a date and a time for when this little guy would finally be here.  A week earlier than I expected, but it still felt like an eternity since I first found out I was pregz. The little nugget that had been kicking and playing soccer in my belly for 9 months was finally going to be evicted and meet us.


What will he look like? Is he going to be huge like daddy? Or tiny like mommy? Daddy was 11lbs at birth so I was really praying that wasn’t genetic. Would he recognize our voices from the endless conversations we had with my belly? So many questions! And so many things to do before his arrival!

I woke up early Friday morning (12pm is early OK… leave me alone) and got started on my errands. I put a load of laundry in and headed to the grocery store. I get to Food Lion and I felt a little familiar pain in my tummy.


When I left the grocery store and was driving to the post office the gas pain intensified a little.  Just a little.  Not enough to disable me from driving, but just enough to make me angry at myself for eating that beefy 5-layer burrito for lunch.

“Ugh, freaking Taco Bell,” I thought.

I picked up my package from the post office.  From Deutschland!  My mother in law sent us a box with some adorable baby supplies in it!  I thought it had gotten lost in the mail since she sent it like 45 years ago and I kept waiting for it.  While I’m waiting to sign for the package, I felt like I really needed to get out of there in case this gas pain turned outward, if you know what I mean.  I signed for the package and speed walked to the Jeep.  I felt much better now that I was alone and didn’t have to worry about any accidental poofs happening.

I got home around 3pm and this gas pain would not go away.  I tried taking some Pepto.  I tried going to the bathroom.  I tried lying down sideways.  I tried an African rain dance.  I tried freaking everything.  Nothing was working.  The pain was coming in little uncomfortable waves.


“Ummm…… am I having contractions?”

Well, I had done some serious research (Google again) for the past 9 months and I was totally aware of Braxton-Hicks contractions.  Those are little practice contractions to get your body ready for birth, but they’re just like the dress rehearsal before the big show.  I read countless and countless horror stories of women checking themselves in to the hospital during Braxton-Hicks because they thought they were really in labor, only to be sent home like 12-24 hours later because nothing was happening.  I DID NOT, I repeat, DID NOT want to spend 12 pointless hours in a hospital, when I could just be in my own house.  So I just ignored it and let it run it’s course.


Cedrik is still not home.  It’s Friday before drill and he always stays late.  I called him.

*phone rings*

Cedrik:  “Command Post, Sergeant Aiken.”

Me: “Ummm boo?  I don’t want you to panic, but I’m pretty sure I’m having contractions.  I’m pretty sure I’ve been having them since like noon today but I just realized what was happening.”

Cedrik:  “WHAT? Do you need me to come home?? Do we need to go to the hospital??”

Me:  “Nah.  I’ve never felt this before so it’s probably those fake contractions I was telling you about.”

Cedrik:  “Ok.  Just try to relax and I’ll be home in about an hour.  Call me immediately if something goes down.”

“If something goes down.”  Like he was waiting for a basketball game score or something.

“Ok I will.”


It’s coming in waves and I can’t even concentrate on anything.  I just want to lie down and wait for this to pass.

But it’s really not that bad.  Every 5 minutes I get a little crampy for about a minute and then it goes away.  Nothing to write my congressman about.


Contractions are between 5-7 minutes apart and I still feel like I can handle it.  I REALLY REALLY, I mean REALLY do not want to go to the hospital for no reason.  At 7:15 I start timing my contractions.  There’s literally an app for that.

Yes I took screen shots because I document everything.

Cedrik gets home around 8 o’clock.  It had been about an hour since I started timing my contractions, but it was like they waited for him to get home to really let me know what was happening.  As soon as he walked through the door, the pain was really intensifying.

“Yeah we really need to go to the hospital.  I can’t see you like this much longer.”

I don’t know what other people’s experiences are like moments like these, but mine was very calm.  I didn’t panic.  I didn’t yell.  All I said was….

“Are you kidding me?!?! I can’t go to the hospital looking like this!  People are going to be checking my “stuff”! I need a bath!  We need to eat something!  And the house is a wreck!”

My husband looked at me like I had seven eyeballs.  “Who cares about the freaking house??! And how can you eat at a time like this??  I need to get you to the hospital NOW!”

I started running my bath like a crazy lady.

“You go to Arby’s, get me a turkey wrap.  When you get back, if this bath hasn’t helped with the pain, then we’ll go to the hospital.”  Suddenly, I’m barking orders like an Army general.

He wouldn’t leave.  “I don’t want to leave you like this.”

“Just go,” I said, sounding all Lifetime movie-esque.

His ADD kicks in and he starts filming me.  Yes you read that right.  He started filming me while I was in the tub.  A video that Jesus himself will never see if I make it to Heaven.  I imagine it looked something like Jesse rescuing Free Willy and having no place to put him, so he put him in a bathtub.

Finally I convince him to leave.  He brings me my cell phone just in case I need to call him while I’m in the tub.  I mainly just used it to keep timing contractions.



Another half hour goes by and this contraction situation is the weirdest thing I’ve ever experienced.  During the minute or so of the contraction, it felt as if Satan himself couldn’t find a portal to this earth in that moment so he chose my insides.  The second – I mean the very second – the contraction was over, it was like nothing had happened.  I was totally fine between them and it was very peaceful.

Cedrik comes back with some bags from Arby’s and I cannot wait to munch down on that turkey wrap.  He starts getting his things together for the hospital.

“You need to eat,” I said.


Damn.  Who’s having the contractions again?

I put on a dress (because that’s the only thing that fits at this point), I threw on a strapless bra (because if I needed to take that joker off, I wouldn’t have to fumble with straps), I threw my hair up in a ponytail and I started eating while Cedrik just kind of stared at me in awe.  Every time I had a contraction, I was literally on my knees in pain for a minute.  Every time it ended, I would just go back to eating like a Fatty McFatFat.  Meanwhile, Cedrik was pacing the house trying to figure out what to do.

“Call the doctor”, I suggested.

Of course the doctor’s office was closed at 9pm on a Friday but there’s always an on-call nurse.  Cedrik calls the doctor’s office and hits the number for the on-call nurse.

I can’t hear what she’s saying but I can hear Cedrik.

“Uhhh yes…. I think my wife is in labor.  Should we go to the hospital?”

The nurse tells him that we can check into the hospital if we want to, but it would be more comfortable to wait out the contractions at home too.

See?  Even the nurse says I’ll be fine.  I called my mom and tried to explain very calmly what was going on.  “OK I’LL BE THERE AS FAST AS I CAN,” she says in a panicky voice.

For the next hour, we contemplate whether or not we should go to the hospital.  We could either A.) spend a pointless day at the hospital with no baby OR B.) spend the night at home contemplating if I’m in labor or not and wondering if I could have had drugs this whole time.

11pm rolls around and Cedrik has had enough of watching me go through this.  “Stop timing them.  We’re going.  Let’s go.”

He eats his 2 hour old Arby’s sandwich in like 2 bites and starts turning everything off in the house.  Our dogs could tell something was up this whole time too.  They would just look at me all sad every time I was fighting through a contraction.  And when they saw Cedrik loading bags in the car, they definitely knew something was “about to go down” as he would put it.  I gave them a kiss goodbye and told them I would see them soon.  That Sarah McLachlan song played in my head as I left them.  You know the one.

We get in the Jeep and in between contractions, Cedrik and I are like two giddy little girls.  Is this it?  The moment we’ve been waiting for since February?? It isn’t at all like the movies.  I called my mom again.

“Mom, we’re on the way to the hospital.  Better safe than sorry.”


I could hear the panic in her voice again.

Cedrik calls his dad and all we can hear is club music in the background.  “Hey you! We’re partying!  What’s going on?”

“Well, I am taking Leilani to the hospital.  I think this is it, dad” he says.

There was a silence on the phone followed by “Ok. Ok. Ok. Ok. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

We get to the E.R. and the lady at the front desk takes one look at the planet I was smuggling inside my dress and says, “Labor?”

“I think so,” I say.

“L&D!” she screams very dramatically.

They send me to the VIP section of the E.R. where the preggos and missing limbs go to get checked in.  The lady checking me in seemed very enthusiastic about her job and seemed like she loved it. Not. Luckily, I had already provided the hospital with all of my information a few days before so that I wouldn’t have to go through all of it when it was time.

“Someone will be down to get you in a minute.”

That minute seemed like an eternity.  There were people coughing in the peasants section of the E.R.  There was a guy who walked down the hallway reeking of pot.  Pretty sure Cedrik and I got a contact high from it.  There was a couple who looked like they came straight from the club who would not stop staring at me or my belly.

A nurse finally comes down the hallway with a wheelchair and I give a huge sigh of relief.

“Ya’ll ready?” she says in a low Southern drawl.

“We think so.”

The next 12 hours were going to be simply life changing.

checked in
Oh yes……. this is the raw reality.

Chapter 3: The Struggle



If you ask different mothers what the most difficult part of their pregnancy was, you will probably get different answers each time.  Nausea.  Heartburn.  Indigestion.  Upset stomach.  Diarrhea.  And while those answers may sound exactly like a Pepto Bismol commercial, they can prove to be not as entertaining.

I was actually very lucky.  I never had vomiting or weird bipolar moments (that I know of).  There was one time where I can recall getting randomly sick.  Cedrik made me laugh too hard as we were coming back home from dinner and I just projectile vomited from the entrance of our house, all the way to the bathroom.  I was mortified. It was like something from Supernatural.  Even though my husband was SUPER nice about it and even cleaned most of it up, he still had that “I’m going to call Sam and Dean” look in his eye after it was over.  He told me 100 times not to worry about it, so I didn’t.  Not only was I hot air balloon pregnant and feeling extremely un-sexy already, but now I just added another bullet to the “reasons my wife is gross” list that I was sure Cedrik was keeping somewhere.

I never sent my husband on strange missions to get weird food in the middle of the night.  I kept hearing stories of pregnant women doing that. The key words here are: “In the middle of the night”.  In the middle of the day, I had no problem asking nicely.  Him being the supportive husband he is, and also to avoid any problems out of a pregnant Puerto Rican wife, he would take his happy-go-lucky attitude to wherever I asked. Mostly to Sonic to get me a DEELISHUS crack cocaine slush – I mean blue raspberry.  Thanks boo.

Sleep has always been a challenge for me as most of my college roommates can tell you. I swear I’m part vampire. Being preggo didn’t help either. But I think that was mainly due to my without fail 4pm daily naps. I mean it was like clockwork. Get home. Take uniform off. Nap. And once I stopped working it was more like wake up at 6am just to eat, go back to sleep, wake up at 10am just to eat, go back to sleep, wake up at 2pm and pretend to feel guilty. Oh and of course to eat.

There’s only one symptom that truly destroyed me during my pregnancy. HEART-muthafuckin-BURN *Samuel L. Jackson voice*. It happened very suddenly. No heartburn that I can recall in 27 years and then BOOM. The 7th layer of HELL had erupted right there in my chest. I would literally have my mouth gaped open trying to release the burn. Just take a minute, close your eyes, and envision me in bed, in the dark and silence, with my eyes and mouth wide open like a hooked fish. Ridiculous. Tums you say? HA! Those little chalky bullshits did nothing except make me regret eating them. Seriously, everyone who has ever bought Tums should get a refund. Whatever.

In addition to the no sleep and heartburn, two very strange things happened during my 9 month baby baking session:
1. The texture of toothpaste in my mouth made me want to puke every morning and night
2. I disliked bacon very much. *gasp*
That second one was exceptionally difficult to deal with.

Besides the bad heartburn, my dislike for toothpaste and my unfortunate hiatus from bacon, it was nothing in comparison to the hardest part of my pregnancy – THE WAIT.  Being in the military has prepared me enough for “hurry up and wait” but this was just too much!  Waiting for the first doctor’s appointment.  Waiting for the first ultrasound.  Waiting to find out the sex.  Waiting for every doctor’s appointment to make sure everything was ok.  Waiting to feel the first sign of a kick or movement.  Waiting for the nurse to hear a heartbeat.  Waiting for the doctor to tell me everything was all ok.  Waiting for the paint to dry in the nursery.  Waiting for the baby shower.


If you have never been pregnant, you should know that midway through your pregnancy, they make you take a blood glucose exam to check you for gestational diabetes – which is basically just diabetes during pregnancy only.  You don’t eat anything after midnight the night before and when you come in they make you drink something that tastes like a bucket of sugar fell into a Gatorade vat (not bad actually).  Then they make you wait an hour while the drink kicks in and you feel like you’ve been roofied and then they take your blood.  They call you the next day or two to let you know if you passed or not.  Another wait.  If you pass, you’re good to go.  If you don’t pass *cough cough* you have to come back in another time for a 3 hour exam.  It starts off the same as the first except after you drink the sugary Gatorade you wait an hour, they take your blood, and then you have to repeat about 2 more times.  So that means you’re starving all night, you get roofied, and then you’re held prisoner at the doctor’s office for 4 hours so they can finish the test.  They should really consider this method of torture down in Guantanamo Bay.

Even when I needed to call the doctor’s office, their messaging system makes you WAIT.  You have to leave a message for the nurse and if it isn’t an urgent matter, they’ll get back to you within 24 hours.  Another wait.  Don’t they know every matter is an urgent matter when you’re pregnant! Luckily they never made me wait long.

The worst wait was obviously waiting for the baby.  I knew he was coming regardless of whether or not I was ready, but it seemed like we were working this never-ending to-do list!  No matter how many things we did, there was always something else to do.  According to my mom, I needed to get my butt in gear because that baby wasn’t going to wait for me to be ready!

I decided to go with my husband’s words of wisdom instead:  “It’ll all work itself out.  Just relax.”

22 weeks and waiting