The First Trimester

I was sitting on a park bench in Murray Hill later that day, I decided I needed to call my family first. I dialed Jennifer’s number. My step mom, who has been an active part of my life since I was two years old. She has been there for me through thick and thin, and I knew she would be the easiest to break the news to. She answers the phone the exact same way every time, in a high pitched voice, even if its 4 in the morning. She says, “H-ELLO?” I wanted to hang up, and pretend like this was not happening to me. Instead, we had small talk, and I sort of prepared her for what I was about to say. It came out short and sweet, and surprisingly she gave me a silent response. For about thirty seconds I heard nothing but the cars passing by me on Third Avenue. I said, “Are you there?” She quickly said, “Yes.” and I then explained to her that it was A’s, and told her about my horrendous visit with the doctor, that I was 8 Weeks pregnant, and how nauseous I was. I told her that Lindsey was here for me, and not to worry. She seemed calm, and at peace with the idea, I was relieved. One down, a million to go….

I have a huge family, my dad’s side, my mom’s side, and my step mom’s side, including grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. How was I going to do this? I called my Dad later that night, he is the most positive person you will ever meet. The only thing that gets him upset is his career, and maybe if my younger sisters aggravate him. When this happens he can only use words like, “dang-nab-it, darn it, and shoot”. But for some reason I was the most nervous to call him. His baby girl, who is supposed to be living this great life in NYC was now knocked up by her ex boyfriend who lives in a different state. What was he going to think of me? What was he going to say? I was panicking. I called him outside of The Food Emporium at 86th Street, as I was waiting for him to answer I was distracted by a homeless man who tried to strike up a conversation with me, and handed me his broken umbrella. Thanks. “This is Gary!” My Dad, also answers the phone the exact same way every time, even though I have programmed myself into his phone, in all caps as, “HOUSTON-YOUR DAUGHTER”. “Hi Dad, what’s up, how are you?” When I call my Dad its usually to track down Jennifer, or to tell him about something great that happened at work…Needless to say, this came out of nowhere to him. My hands were shaking, and I could feel my lips trembling. I looked at Lindsey, and she just patted my shoulder, as if to say, “you can do it”. I said, “Well Dad I have to tell you something, I don’t know if you’ll think its good news or bad news, are you sitting down?” He said, “Yeah baby! What’s up?” Oh Lord here it comes. “Well, you’re going to be a grandpa!” I started to cry. He said, “A grandpa?! That’s GREAT news! What’s the bad news?” he then proceeded to give me one of his famous speeches, telling me that I was going to be a great mother, and not to worry, that I just need to take this one day at a time, and that everything will work itself out. He always tells me how “tough” I am, and for me to just “hang in there”. I listened, and cried more, and he told me how much he loved me and proud he was of me. Thank God! I don’t know what I would have done with any other answer than that. I felt totally fine now.

Lindsey and I walked home, I got in bed and read the book I had bought earlier in Soho. “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” I read three chapters, shut the book, and decided I needed to call my mother. My mom is a very understanding person, under certain circumstances. She is just like me, she can listen, and give great advice, but she gets worked up easily and she worries about everything. I didn’t know how to go about this either, but I had called two people already and it seemed to be fine, so I figured I could do it. My mom was calm, almost too calm, I told her everything about A and I, how he responded to me, what the doctor said, how far along I was, she just said, “Okay…” I was only imaging what was going through her mind. She was freaking out, but didn’t want to show it. I told her I was tired and needed to sleep…and I got off the phone, I was done making calls for the night, so I curled myself up in a ball, and let more tears out. My mind was racing, A was calling every five seconds to yell at me and tell me that I was crazy for doing this. He kept saying that I needed to “just take care of the situation” and move on. Just take care of it? Really? Its that easy, huh? You helped do this to me! What kind of mess have I got myself in? I started to believe him, that I was crazy, and that I couldn’t do this. At some point, Lindsey came in and ripped the phone from my hands, and told A to lock it up, and stop bothering me. She comforted me, and told me God was on my side, and this is all in his plan for me.



For days I felt like I was living someone else’s life. I was forced to just go on, like everything was normal. Everyone at work was worried, and wondering what was wrong with me. My eyes were puffy and swollen, and I was exhausted at all times of the day, not to mention the nausea, it came in waves, and I would get light headed and felt like I could faint. I had to help women pick out lip stick colors, I wanted to scream at them and say, “This doesn’t matter! I’m pregnant! Who cares what color you need!” It only seemed to get harder. Good thing was my boss was so amazing during that time, she let me go home early when I needed to, and answered all of my many questions. My co-workers didn’t really understand why I was keeping my baby, which sometimes made me feel like I had made the wrong decision. I felt like I was the pink elephant in every room I walked into, like every knew and was secretly talking about me. All I wanted to do was quit, and buy a one way ticket to Austin. I seriously thought about it sometimes. My family quickly made the point that I would not be able to do this without my job, and my insurance. I sucked it up and listened to them. I felt trapped, and lost, I wanted them with me and I needed their love and support more than ever during this emotional time. After all A wasn’t present, and choose not to be involved, my friends that supported the idea were all in Texas, I only had Lindsey. Every morning I would look at myself in the mirror and say, “You can do this Houston, you are strong, God has a plan for you.”


I finally found a doctor that was legitimate, and close to my work, it was at Spring OBGYN on Wooster St in Soho, a quick 5 minute walk from Bloomies. Linds of course came to the first appointment with me, I was thirteen weeks now. As we sat and waited in the lobby, we were surrounded by more peaceful things this time, like lavender painted walls, and beautiful, chic mothers dressed to the nines, with their baby bump showing like it was just an accessory added on to their outfits. Of course, their husbands were in tow. Lindsey and I looked like lesbian lovers, waiting anxiously to find out the sex of our baby. They called us back, and we passed down a hallway filled with pictures of babies that had been delivered there. I felt safe, but still worried. Was my baby still in there? Is he ok? I had tequila shots on L’s Bday, before I even knew I was pregnant…shit, I probably messed this up already. They took my blood pressure, it was high, simply because I was freaking out, then my weight. The nurse was sweet, and put me at ease. My doctor came in and introduced herself to us. Dr. White was her name, she looked like exactly like Cynthia Nixon from Sex  & The City. Her voice was calm, and she made sure to answer all of my questions, and assured me that the drinking pre-baby was fine, and the baby would not be affected. She gave me a list of foods to avoid, everything on it I never ate before, so I was glad. She also wrote me a prescription for my prenatal vitamins, and an inhaler, because my asthma had gotten worse since I became pregnant. We then went and did a sonogram. The baby was so much bigger this time! He actualy looked like a baby! His head was huge, and he had a big round belly. I could see him moving on the screen, but couldn’t feel him in my stomach. I started to cry, this time tears of joy. I began to feel like this whole thing was a little bit more real. The nurse asked me if I was going to find out the sex, and I replied, “YES!” She told me she was almost positive that it was a boy. I knew it! I had known from day one that I was having a boy, I don’t know why, maybe because A comes from a family of all boys. What would he think? Maybe he’d be happy now, since I’m having a boy.  A sweet baby boy, I thought to my self and patted my belly, we’re going to be okay baby, we can do this. I looked up at him on the screen, and fell in love all over again.