So. Third instalment of this. Third post. Yeah. I feel like we're getting somewhere. Okay. Maybe not. You realize I use periods a lot? My English teacher would hate my blog posts. [Side note: Apparently Google, who owns blogger, doesn't think blog is it's own word. Weird.] Anywho, back on topic? (We have a topic, right?)
So after finding out I was preggers, I moved back into the crap town I grew up in. Apparently pregnant me thought it would be an awesome idea. I wanted to be near my Mum. Mums = Awesome. Know what's not awesome? Said town I grew up in. Seriously. There is nothing there. The hospital I delivered in was an hour away. My OB was an hour away. I couldn't have a midwife because I lived, you guessed it, an hour away. In said town, I read boob juice stuff. I read cloth diapering stuff. I read blogs. And I slept. Yep. That was my pregnancy. And lemons. Lots of lemons. They were my craving during pregnancy. My Mum thought they would make me sick. I had like two to three lemons a day. Nom Nom Nom.
When I was about 4 months pregnant. My Babeh and I got married. It was on a Thursday in September. Weird, I know but it was our third year anniversary so meh. We were actually engaged before I got pregnant and planned on getting married in 2012 (because it was a Saturday) but we bumped it up so we could get married before Dangoo was born.
We lived in this crappy little apartment building. Our rooms were super cold. The front door kept breaking on us. If we used any of the outlets on the one side of our apartment, the entire apartment would be out of power until we could get a hold of the building manager. Fun times.
By the end of my pregnancy, I was anxious as anyone. I made a huge mistake. I said yes to being induced. Thankfully, I didn't get any pitocin but I still regret it. More on that next time though and I'll go into details about my labour and the first few weeks with my Dangoo.
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