~ Meet Heather
I have a secret. Okay, okay, so I don't know any of you, but I need to swear you to secrecy--you can tell no one. Especially my co-workers. Okay, here is my secret. Ever since I have become pregnant, I have turned into a weepy, mushy, sentimental woman. I cry at commercials. I cry when I see a gorgeous little baby looking up at his or her mother endearingly. I cry when trying to deal with uncooperative people. I cry when my work seems overwhelming. I got so angry at the bank the other day, I cried in front of the teller.
Oh, and I no longer clean my house from top to bottom on a weekly basis.
A small being has invaded me, and I have turned into an entirely different person.
So, let me introduce my husband and myself. My name is Heather Baggett. My husband's name is Steve. I am 28 years old; he is 30. This is my first pregnancy, and I've been quite surprised at how it has affected my day-to-day life. My husband, on the other hand, has a son, but never officially went through pregnancy with someone he loves. My husband was just 19 when his son was born; the mother was 17. They never had a relationship (unless you consider complete animosity a relationship), so this is truly his first experience. Oh-we do have his son every other weekend and one to two times weekly. His name is Jarren, and he is 10 years old. He's a fabulous boy. We get along famously.
So, I guess you'd probably want to know how I spend my days. I am currently a writer/editor for a small company in Dallas, TX. I write work/life content, and right now I am working on a huge childcare section. I plan to further my education, beginning this summer, at the University of North Texas. I have just been accepted into graduate school and look forward to getting my Master's degree. I do intend to continue working after a six-week maternity leave, as well as continue my pursuit of education. I think I would like to teach eventually--a career that is definitely conducive to child rearing. My husband is a computer programmer. People always ask what kind of programming he does, and all I can say is, "The kind where he enters stuff in on a keyboard." He's told me specifically, but he doesn't speak in "Heather-ese," so I get a little glassy-eyed.
I also play the violin. I hadn't played for years, and have my first upcoming concert on Easter Sunday at church. It has been so long since I've followed a conductor--I hope I don't make a fool of myself.
My biggest admonition is that I was the typical I-never-want-to-have-kids-only-a-career kind of woman. But I don't want to dwell on that. I've thrown myself full into mommy hood, and I anxiously await every moment of our pregnancy, as well as the moment we get to meet this fabulous little being growing inside me.
Now, every couple seems to have a nickname for their tiny babies. Our first nickname was n'embryo. My sister designated that name--it means neither niece or nephew. Well, as a full-blown fetus with an established gender, we can no longer call her (or maybe him) n'embryo. From here on out we must call her (okay, okay, just to appease my husband-or him) gummy bear. How on earth did we decide on that, you ask? Well, our first sonogram was at seven weeks, and based on the measurements we established that she was gummy bear-sized.
Many of my close friends wonder what changed my mind about becoming a parent. The answer is simple. I just must have been in denial for a long time. Actually, I thought I was pregnant last year, while taking birth control pills. My period was two or three days late, so I bought a pregnancy test. When the results were negative, I was so disappointed. I felt as if someone had let me down. I realized, at that point, that I had been letting myself down. I had denied myself some pretty profound desires, and I knew I could no longer do that. My husband was thrilled with my newfound attitude.
How excited are we about our pregnancy? Well, let's see. We are 12 weeks pregnant and we have bought the crib set, four large packages of diapers, lotion, shampoo, powder, books, toys, furniture and multiple packages of baby wipes. Yes, I'd say we might be a bit on the presumptuous side, but I absolutely do not believe in jinxing or superstition.
Well, all my newly acquired friends and acquaintances, I look forward to sharing my experiences. Please wish us luck, just as we will wish all of you luck in all of your endeavors.