From the beginning...

My introduction to motherhood was quite the surprise! I was 22 years old in my second to last year of college, living alone, 2 and half hours away from Patrick and my family. Perfect timing……I know. It was September 2017. I woke up one morning sick to my stomach, and I mean SICK. At this time I was going through student teaching, so I had only 1 or 2 classes on my campus, the rest of the time was spent at the elementary school I was assigned to teach at. 

 How I found out I was pregnant.....

So, on that September morning I woke up extremely sick and puking all over my apartment. Missing student teaching was not an option because every absence had to me made up for.....no matter what. I laid in bed thinking, how am I going to make it out of bed. Once I got a couple minutes or so of relief, I tried my best to get ready and look "professional" in between running to bathroom to barf. By the time I made it outside of my apartment I had mentally got myself together and decided I had the stomach bug and it would pass within the next 12-24 hours and could push through teaching that day. After numerous stops on the side of the rode to throw up, I had made it in one piece and touched up my make up to go inside of the school. I didn't even make it to the hallway my class was on before sprinting to the closest bathroom. I immediately found the teacher who mentored me and told her there was no way could stand in front of class and teach today. She saw the look on my face, water eyed, puny, and pale. She told me to  sit down and gave me a bottle of water. I was so relieved. The duration of my class time was spent going back and forth with myself in the bathroom mirror trying to make myself okay enough to at least sit in the classroom so my presence was accounted for. By noon that day, I was sent home. The rest of the afternoon was spent with FaceTiming my mom in between brief naps and hanging over the toilet. At this point, I remember thinking "this has to be worse than a stomach bug...I'm dying" and I truly thought I was, I had never felt so miserable. I couln't eat, I couldn't even sit or stand without feeling like I was going to pass out or throw up.
By ten o' clock that night, on the phone with my mom, she offers to get on the road and take care of me. As bad as I wanted to, I couldn't let her be on those long dark rodes, alone this late at night. A few more hours past by and I made the decision to drive myself to the ER. I was pale, shaking, and I assumed extremely dehydrated. 

The ER Visit That Changed everything...

As I pull into the parking garage of the hospital I tell myself all I have to do is make it out of the car. Then all I have to do is make it to the front door. Then all I had to do was check-in. Once I'm finally checked in I ask for a barf bag and they draw my blood. Now, the nurse in triage already suspected I was pregnant because I couldn't remember the date of my last period, which I never remembered because I was so irregular at the time. For any other woman I am sure that would have been red flag, but I truly thought nothing of it. I had come to conclusion in my mind that I had food poisoning. I waited in the waiting room for a little over an hour but it seemed much longer than that. I was finally not barfing every 30 seconds so I did start to feel a bit of relief. Once I got to my room I laid down, and my sweet nurse immediately started pushing fluids, and nasusea meds and took my vitals. 30 minutes later, the doctor walks in and says the words I will never forget. "Well Miss Miller, you are in fact pregnant" with a huge grin. I was stunned. He went on to talk about how severely dehydrated I was and that I needed to go to ultrasound right away to make sure everything is okay, but none of that registered in my mind after he broke the news that I indeed was....PREGNANT! The nurses are got me ready to go to ultrasound and I have a brief moment to call Patrick, and share the news with him. He took it well. His reaction was so sweet, he immediately assured me that we were going to be okay and that this was a "good thing". I was calmed right away. 


The Ultrasound...

​As I watch the technician get everything prepared for my ultrasound, everything is moving in slow motion and I can barely keep my eyes open, it's after ,midnight. All I can think about is the fact that I was drinking....A LOT just the previous weekend and I have already started being a terrible mother. The ultrasound was an eternity, literally. I didn't understand at the time, but I remember it took close to an hour. She would move the instrument from my right to left side over and over and again, it was not pleasant. The look on her face was unreadable, and in my mind that meant she was trying to put on poker face because something is wrong, after all....I was just throwing drinks back like a normal college kid just last weekend. I asked the nurse if something is wrong,  she told me she was not allowed to talk to me about what she sees on the monitor, and that the doctor will be to my room shortly after to let me know how everything is. Instant panic! As I am being wheeled back to room, not a word slipped through my teeth, I was so scared and anxious about the news that I was about to here. Little did I know, I was scared for the wrong reasons. 15 more minutes went by before the Doctor finally comes back in with the scans. He points to what look like poppy seeds and something else that I couldn't make out, attached to them (yolk sac). Then he says "Well....there's two of them" and I immediately knew what he meant. "One there, and one here" he said. My heart sank. I couldn't breathe. I was in SHOCK! I played it cool in front of the Doctor...I think. He left the room and I called  Patrick. No answer. He had falen asleep. By now it's about 3am, and Patrick nor my mom is still not answering their phones and I am not okay. I wanted to call my dad so badly, but I was more afraid of his possible disappointment . After all, I'm still in college, and only 22 years old.  Alone in a cold hospital, in a city without Patrick or family, and I just got the craziest, scariest news of my life.

Phone Call to Patrick...

It was 6am and Patrick called me frantic, I called him what seemed like a million times. I explained to him that I'm fine, nothings wrong but I had more news. The words shot out of my mouth "babe, its not going to be okay....its TWINS!" We were both silent for brief second, I knew he was trying his hardest to keep it together with me on the phone. Even though he was also in total shock, he assured me over and over again, that we were going to be okay. Exactly what I needed.

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