Pregnancy
I am not old. I was not old when I had my child. Even 12 years later, I am not a geriatric. Don’t call my pregnancy geriatric. Here is my birth story.

August 2006, at 36 years old, I found out I was pregnant. It was exciting and frightening at the same time. My doctor described the pregnancy as “geriatric” but the last time I checked, 36 years old is not old. I was in the best shape of my life. Hiking, biking, kayaking, and kickboxing were all part of my weekly routine. I loved being outside, especially during the summer. The hotter, the better. I did not feel like I was too old to be pregnant, however, my body felt very differently.
I was working as a warehouse manager at the time and it was hot in there. My unborn child was apparently not a fan of the heat because every time I walked in that warehouse, I got sick. The first seven months all I did was puke. I remember riding down the highway and having to stop and puke on the side of the rode. It was horrible and I was not enjoying being pregnant. Everyone would always say “this is a very special time and you should cherish it”. Cherish my ass, I just wanted that baby out!
I was in and out of the hospital during my third trimester. I had developed Preeclampsia which meant my blood pressure was dangerously high. I was put on bed rest and monitored. Needless to say it was not a fun nine months, my body was betraying me in every way possible and I was in uncharted territory. Heartburn felt like a heart attack, my emotions were out of control and I couldn’t be trusted to do the simplest tasks.
Before this pregnancy, I trusted my body completely. During Basic Training, I conquered Victory Tower, completed a fifteen mile road march with a fifty pound ruck sack on my back and carrying an M16A1 Rifle. My body never once let me down until now and I was miserable.
However, on March 17, I was admitted to the hospital. My blood pressure had sky rocketed. The doctor wanted to induce labor and get the baby out as soon as possible. It was one week before the due date. I was overjoyed to say the least. I wanted this baby out! I was given the medicine to induce labor. Nothing happened for four hours, then at 9:00 pm my water broke and then it was come on let’s go for the next 23 hours and 45 minutes.
I cried out with every contraction, they were unrelenting and I didn’t think it was ever going to end. I had never felt that kind of pain and I was terrified of getting an epidural. Everyone had told me I could be paralyzed and it wasn’t worth the risk. Everyone that is except my doctor, who advised me to have it because the pain was causing my blood pressure to rise even higher. Yet, still, I said “No.”
And then few more hours pass, and many many contractions later, I gave in and begged for the epidural. It was Sunday and the anesthesiologist had to be called in, which seemed to take forever. I was so exhausted and in so much pain and now the baby was at risk because I had waited so long.
I was given the shot in my spine while the contractions continued to run rampant. I was told to remain completely still while the epidural was being administered. Now remember, I am having monstrous contractions while this man has a needle in my spine. My doctor held my hands and helped me breathe through the contractions until the needle was out. Then 45 minutes later, and without much pain, my daughter was born. It was as if all I needed was permission to relax, and then it was just so easy.
I saw my sweet baby girl for a brief second before she was taken away and cleaned up. As the nurse handed my newborn baby back to me, I breathed a sigh of relief that it was over. Olivia. I felt a rush of happiness but didn’t have that feeling most women talk about when they hold their child for the first time. I loved her and was happy to have her in my arms but I realized the maternal stuff wasn’t really there. Olivia and I both spent that night in the hospital.
The next day my doctor informed, “Ms. Seal, we are sending you home today but little Olivia needs to stay for a few more days.” That is when it happened, my maternal instincts kicked and I couldn’t stop the flow of tears. My chest began to tighten, I was suffocating at the thought of leaving my innocent newborn. I informed the hospital staff that I was not leaving my child, if Olivia was staying, so was I. The staff found a room for me on the second floor but I didn’t use it. I stayed right be her side in the nursery.
I could hardly contain my excitement when I brought her home for the first time. I vowed to cherish every moment with my baby girl.
I thought being pregnant and giving birth would be the hardest parts of becoming a mother, but I was oh so wrong. The hard part had only just begun! We are 12 years in… She and I have had our challenges. But she is worth every moment.

I wrote a book!
And you can now buy it on Amazon. Its a fast-paced, plot-twisting, romantic thriller about a Norfolk Police detective hunt for an elusive serial killer. Professional disputes while trying to solve this case results deep physical desire as we watch the story of Detectives “Lexie” Fleming and Danielle Watkins unfold. Go! Buy the book!
