Up, Down and All AroundBy Ejiro Ogenyi
Published: February 4, 2015
Welcome to part 8 of my journey through my first pregnancy! If you’d like to start from the beginning, please check out parts 1 through 7: preparing for pregnancy in “Getting Ready for Baby,” visiting the doctor in “The Start of the Shortest Ride,” returning to Lagos in “Period Three or a BFP?” dealing with my new reality in “It’s Decision Time, Plus Morning Sickness in the Time of Ebola,” reflecting on what I’d learned so far in “Lessons of the First Trimester,” putting down roots in “New Clothes, New Hair, New City, Oh My!” and going for a wild ride in “The Emotional Roller Coaster.” And the highs and lows continue this week in “Up, Down and All Around.”
Month six was a time of huge transitions. I got into Nigeria the day before the month started, and I was so excited for all we had planned.
After four years of blissful matrimony, we felt stable enough to plan our traditional wedding, and boy were our parents thrilled. My mother was in full planning mode, and both of my parents were super-excited to have their four kids under the same roof at the same time. The last time the whole family had been together like that was Christmas of 1998, and I remember it like the back of my hand, right down to the Christmas breakfast of Satis beef sausages, eggs, bread, baked beans and tea. I was excited.
As expected, there was so much love in the air. My sister was my rock from the minute she whirled into the house, and my brothers and dad were being all efficient about getting everything ready. It was just overwhelming. The night before the wedding, we all sat around with a bottle of Jack Daniels (I drank water, of course), and gisted like the old days. It was such a good time.
It was so good, in fact, that when my husband and I retired for the night, I proceeded to burst into unending tears of joy. It sounds like such a contradiction, but I cried for hours. Hormones are a helluva thing, aren’t they?
My emotional outburst didn’t end on the night before the wedding, either. After a gorgeous ceremony and a day of seeing and hugging on more family, I found myself crying in my aunt’s arms in the middle of the reception hall. I’m sure some folks thought it was because I was “leaving my family.” In reality, it was because I was with my family and felt so happy having them around.
Food, Sleep and Weight Gain
Once the wedding was over, it was time to relax, and if there were a prize for best relaxer, I would have so won that thing. I think I’m going to figure out how to be pregnant every time I go to Nigeria, because normally my trips there are not very relaxing, but this time all I did was sleep, eat and, well . . . eat. I was so spoiled that I can’t remember even washing a dish, and the most I ever had to do was serve myself food from the pot. People were so polite to me, to the point that a random stranger said sorry when I tripped and almost fell in the street. It was surreal and fun.
After two weeks of lounging, my first order of business on returning home was to make sure the little one was okay. We got into the apartment at 9 a.m. and then headed straight to my doctor’s appointment. Everything looked good – in fact, we found out that I had gained a very healthy 8 pounds in the three weeks I had been gone. Excuse me??? And then the doctor said that I was just about due for a growth spurt. Again – what??!
Back to Reality and the First Day on the Job
Getting back to reality was not all weight gain and growth spurts, though. Within a few days of returning, it was time to move into a new and bigger place to accommodate our growing family, and it was also time to start a new job. If you had told me that I would be starting a new job while pregnant, I would not have believed you, but it was what needed to happen.
The first week was interesting. I was good for the first three days. In fact, I was quite proud of myself . . . and then I snapped. I was living in a new city, working in a new industry, dealing with totally different equipment, meeting new people, working downtown, and having to park far away from my office because of the parking situation in downtown New Orleans.
I wish a video camera had been running, because my snap scene was kind of epic. My husband just watched me as I railed against the universe and then, a couple of minutes after I was done yelling, he gave me a huge hug. At that moment I hoped that either my emotional outbursts were over or that God would continue to give my husband the patience of a saint.
Be sure to check back next week, when a serious revelation sparks a big change in my life.
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