Every month my co-workers would find some reason to test me for pregnancy. They would think because my back hurt or I had a cough was a good enough reason to be tested. In June, I had unusual back pain to the point I was having trouble walking and getting out of chairs. The doctor ordered a script for a pregnancy test and I had a training medic draw my blood. I knew it would be negative. My co-workers just wanted proof. When I read the results, it didn't say negative. I thought for sure something was wrong so I called a fellow co-worker over to see the results I was looking at. She said, "Girl, you pregnant!" I couldn't believe it. I texted Bryan and then realized after I sent the text that this was probably a moment I should call him. His first words were, "I already knew." What?1?! Was I the only one who didn't know?
The first trimester was not bad. I craved Swiss cheese and green olives and felt sleepy before I found out I was pregnant. I didn't have morning sickness. I had heart burn only when I ate pizza, twice. And I had this awful metallic taste that could never be brushed away (my mother had the same odd symptom). My friends husband cooked me a lot of steak during this time, thinking it was an iron deficiency? Other than that, I was feeling pretty normal.
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