They say that everyday you learn something new.
I, personally, agree.
For example, I learned that vampires pass out when exposed to too much sunlight, for too long.
I tried to help the poor woman, but there was nothing I could do. Luckily, after about five minutes or so, she woke up on her own.
Anyway, let's back up to the events leading to my discovery.
It turns out that my puking spell had nothing to do with bouncing on the trampoline on an empty stomach.
I pregnant with my very first child.
When the puking continued and became more frequent, I went to the drug store and purchased a pregnancy test. Low and behold, it turned out to be positive. I didn't want to get excited for nothing, so, to confirm my pregnancy, I made an appointment at the nearest hospital. After taking a urine test and having a few tubes of blood drawn, my pregnancy was confirmed.
To say that I was thrilled, would be an understatment. I was beyond thrilled! I was over the friggin' moon! I toyed with the idea of calling Beau, but I figured that it would be best if I didn't say anything. Besides, the news of my pregnancy probably wouldn't be music to his ears. So, I said nothing.
Shortly after I my pregnancy was ratified, I had quite an unusual craving for pancakes.
I also discovered that one should never, ever, use Plasma Fruit as an ingredient in any recipe. Ever.
I found the little fruits in my refrigerator after my little rendezvous with Beau, but decided to freeze them until I found a purpose for them. Well, after my pregnancy was confirmed, I started having cravings out of this world; and this may sound crazy to you, but one of those cravings even included blood.
One day, while chewing a piece of gum, I chomped down too hard and ending up biting my tongue. Once I was done swearing and whimpering little a little baby, I noticed that my tongue was bleeding; and for the first time ever, the taste didn't make me want to gag. In fact, I wanted more.
At first, I was a little freaked out by my bizarre hunger, but then I figured, "Hey, I am pregnant with a vampire's baby. Prehaps this is normal!" So, all of my worries flew out of the window!
Now, the question was, how was I going to fulfill this hunger? I mean, it wasn't like I was a vampire, myself. I couldn't just run around town chomping down on peoples' jugulars. Maybe that was a good thing, because that thought was enough to make me cringe.
Then, I remembered the mysterious fruits Beau left behind. Maybe if I eat one of those- I pictured myself taking a bite out of the dark fruit, and shuddered. There was no way I would be able to eat that! But, what if I mixed it in with something I like? That, my friends, is how my lovely blood-pancakes came to be. I purified the two pieces of Plasma Fruit in my freezer, dumped the liquid in the pancake batter, blended the ingredients thoroughly, and proceeded in making the prettiest pancakes I've ever made in my life.
Too bad my little nudger didn't seem to be too keen about me mixing human food and vampire food together.
That's right. Immediately after devouring my blood-pancakes, I became violently ill and threw up every, last, pancake. As if that wasn't bad enough, my stomach was messed up for the rest of the week.
Yup, my baby was mad at me; and she had absolutely no problem with expressing her anger.
Finally, after about two months of battling, I found something that she loved almost as much as I did.
Then again, who could possibly resist a nice big helping of homemade macaroni and cheese?
Of course, don't get me wrong, I had plenty of up moments during my pregnancy!
In fact, I think I spent more time outside of my house during my pregnancy than I did before I had all of the extra weight to carry around.
It was like, all of a sudden, reading a book outside, in the beautiful sun, on a random bench placed in the middle of the city seemed much more desirable than reading a book inside of my tiny abode on my fancy smancy sofa.
Besides, you become the witness of many things when you muster up the courage to venture out of your home.
Thus, leading me back to my story about what happens to vampires when they are exposed to too much sun.
Although I don't know what I would do without the sun, I'm sure Jessica Talon doesn't feel the same way.
A few minutes after taking the seat on the "random" bench, I noticed her staggering about.
I didn't think too much about it until she grabbed her head and went down.
I stared at her for a couple of seconds, praying that she would make some sort of movement, but when she didn't, I placed my book down on the space next to me and rose to my feet, "Um..."
I looked to my left. No one was there. I looked to my right. No one was there. Great. I live in a huge city, yet, there is no one around when I need them.
Reluctantly, I knelt down next to the unconscious vampire, "Hello?" I went to shake her, but her skin was so hot to the touch, that I jerked my hand back. "Well, isn't this just peachy keen?" I muttered, "How on Earth am I supposed to help her if I can't even get a single shake in?"
"Here's an idea, how about you just leave her be?"
I looked up only to find a man with a very peculiar hair color standing just inches behind me. Where the hell were you when I was looking for help?
"Well, how much would you like it if you were unconscious in the middle of the city and no one stopped to help you, huh?!"
The man chuckled lightly, "I suppose I wouldn't like that very much, but it's different in her case. Jess is a vampire. This is normal for her. Well, it's not really normal, but this is usually what happens when vamps have been exposed to too much sunlight; and clearly, she's been exposed to too much sun. She'll snap out of it, eventually."
"Are you sure?" I wasn't quite convinced by this man's theory, but when the lower part of my back began to cramp, I stood up after he nodded his head.
Now, I was standing face-to-face with the man.
"I'm Harry, by the way."
"Oh, it's nice to meet you, I'm Shayda."
"Shayda? That's a pretty name."
"Thanks." I went back to the bench to retrieve my book.
I wasn't really sure what to say. I mean, it's not like I could compliment his name, or anything. I mean, his was Harry. What the hell is so fascinating about the name Harry?
After I got my book, I noticed that Jessica was up and about, "Oh, it looks like you were right."
Harry turned around to meet my gaze, "Oh." He looked back at me and smiled softly, "I told you."
"Yeah, so you did." I tucked my book under my arm and looked back at Harry who was eyeing my book.
"What are you reading, there?"
"It's a pregnancy book."
"Ah. I see. Why, exactly, are you reading that?"
I looked down at my stomach. My bulge wasn't very noticeable, so, it wasn't like I could think Harry was a complete dunce for asking. "I'm expecting my first child in about five months."
Harry raised his eyebrow in curiosity, "Oh, really? Well, congrats."
"Thanks."
Eventually, our conversation picked up pace and we began talking about more meaningful things until it was time for Harry to leave.
Once I made it back to my humble abode. I created a list called, "The Potential Fathers of Bridgeport". Since I was already pregnant with Beau's baby, I wrote his name and placed a check-mark beside it. Underneath Beau's name, I wrote Harry's.
This would be a quick and an easy to keep up with the men I wanted to procreate with, and the men I already procreated with.
Wow. That makes me sound like such a dirty whore, doesn't it? Yes, yes, I believe it does. But let's face it, I am not the Virgin Mary. If I want to successfully become the mother of 100 children, I am going to have to do something; well, someone, but you know what I mean!
Anyway, moving on!
You have no idea how much tell I went through to get this belly.
Remeber how I said Harry couldn't tell I was pregnant?
Well, that was at 17 weeks. That's right, at 17 weeks, I still was not showing.
So, when 20 weeks hit and I still looked the same, I called my doctor.
He reassured me that everything was okay, but I needed a second opinion before I could put my mind at ease, so, I went to the hospital and met with the other women's specialist that worked there. Fortunately, for me, this one was a woman.
Dr. West took one look at me and frowned, "What are you eating?"
"Macaroni and cheese."
She eyed me oddly, then eyed my slightly bulging belly, "That's it?"
"That's all she'll let me eat."
A small smile crept across Dr. West's face, "How do you know it's a girl? Did Dr. Reynolds do an ultra sound?"
I could feel an ugly grimace forcing its way on to my face. That quack hasn't done a damn thing except for push me off to the side! Quickly, I shook that thought causing my face to relax. "No. I haven't had an ultra sound. It's just an instinct, I guess. Well, more like a desire. I've always wanted a baby girl."
Dr. West's smile remained on her face as she nodded, "That seems rational, to me. But even if you have a boy, you're young. You have plenty of time to have more kids."
If only she knew how many kids I was aiming for, she probably wouldn't have said that. "Yeah, you're right," I replied.
She nodded once again, took another glance at my stomach, and wiped the smile off of her face, "Now, back to the topic at hand. You said that macaroni is the only thing she'll let you eat?"
"Yes."
"What, exactly, have you tried to eat?"
I told her about the grilled cheese sandwiches, the sushi, and the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
I decided to leave out the blood-pancakes. It seemed like a wise move.
"Have you ever considered, meat? Well, cooked meat?" She then reprimanded me about eating sushi while pregnant. I tried telling her that it was homemade, but that didn't seem to make a difference. "Homemade or store bought, it's still raw fish Ms. Buckley."
She had a point. So I decided not to say anything.
I sat patiently and silently on the examing table, reading all of the signs in the room.
Who knew those little posters could be so informative?
In the midst of my reading, I heard the clicking of a keyboard.
Dr. West was in the process of typing a letter of some sort.
Was she turning me over to DCF for feeding my unborn child raw fish? Okay, Shaydi, now you're being ridiculosu! She wouldn't turn you in for eating sushi. That's just preposteros! I was actually able to calm my nerves when I heard the printer going. Whatever she was typing, it was for me.
"I want to see you back in four weeks, Ms. Buckley," Dr. West announced after she handed me the paper.
I nodded in silence as I took the paper and began to read over it. It was a list of foods she wanted me to add to my diet, along with a meal regimen. On the back, there was a list of foods that she wanted me to avoid at all costs.
The first word to catch my attention:
SUSHI
No, seriously, that's how she typed it: big, red, and bold; capital, italicized, underlined. Jeez, thanks. "Thank you, Dr. West," I murmured as I climbed off of the exam table.
"Any time. Hopefully, you will have gained quite a decent amount of weight by the time I see you back, here. If not, I have a back up plan." Now, I'm no medical expert, but, usually when doctors say they have a back up plan, it usually involves a serious series of shots, seriously.
Wasn't it bad enough that I already had to have blood work done every month? I would be damned if I got stabbed with another needle; especially if I could avoid it! As soon as I got home, I would start this regimen and pray to my God that it worked!
Thankfully, it did.
At 26 weeks, I started to show; and by 30 weeks, I was glowing (and waddling).
In spite of the bladder battles, the squirming, and the kicking, I couldn't have been happier. Granted, my back was constantly aching, and I had a new swagger, but who cared about all of that? I had a bump; a real, live, bump; and inside of that bump was the happiest and healthiest baby girl in the world!
Dear Little Nudger,
I love you.
Love,
Mommy.
♥
Since I was only 10 weeks away from my due date, Dr. West advised me to take it easy. For the most part, I did. I spent the majority of my days watching T.V., playing Gnub, or hanging out on the swing-set.
Unfortunately, not all of my days ran as smoothly as I wanted them to.
My dear, precious sink decided that it wanted to break. When this first happened, it freaked the hell out of me, because I thought my water broke. Granted, I was about 36 weeks at the time, but I was trying to keep my little bundle of joy inside of my uterus as long as I could.
Fearlessly, I engaged in a fierce battle with the sink.
And, of course, I won.
After all, I am a woman; and I am full of epic awesomeness.
It turns out that I had absolutely nothing to worry about.
Not only did my little nudger decide that she wanted to stay put for the whole 40 weeks, she also decided that she wanted to stay in there for 2 extra weeks.
After my due date passed, Dr. West called to check on me.
I explained to her that my little friend seemed to be quite comfy and had no plans to come out any time too.
"We can do this one of two ways," she stated, "We can try to induce your labor naturally, or, you can come into the hospital and we'll induce it the way all women know and love."
You have got to be kidding me!
"Naturally! I want to do this naturally!"
With that being said, I was told to do a series of stretches for at least 30 to 40 minutes a day.
"Consider it done."
"Okay, but here's the catch. You've got a week to get her to drop, if not-"
"I know! I know! Just have some faith in me, Doc!"
My week was up, but I still heavily pregnant.
Even so, I was determined.
I would not go to Dr. West until that Monday.
In the mean time, I was hitting those stretches!
Saturday and Sunday came and went. On Monday morning, I got up extremely early and did a few more stretches. I still felt the same. If anything, my little nudger kicked, but that was about it. Defeated, I decided to grab a bite to eat before heading to the hospital.
Right as a went to sit down, I felt a raw pain tear through the lower part of my abdomen. Granted, I've never been pregnant before; and granted, I knew absolutely nothing about labor, or, labor pains, for that fact, but I was about 99.9% sure that I was in labor.
Find your happy place! Find your happy place!
When the pain faded, I waddled to my bedroom, grabbed the little bag I packed for this very night, and headed down to the hospital. Fortunately for me, it was still dark outside, which meant no one could see that my pants were soaked through with amniotic fluid. Yeah. My water decided that it wanted to break while I was driving; and yeah, that's right. I drove. Don't worry, I didn't hit anybody, or anything. I mean, I nearly drove off of the road a few times, which would have ended badly for me, but the people in my path were spared.
As I toddled into the hospital, I couldn't help but to feel accomplished.
I could not wait to rub my victory in Dr. West's face.
I managed to induce my labor without any help from her.
My longest and strongest contraction happened as I was signing in. To make matters worse, the clerk started freaking out. It was as if she had never seen a woman in labor grace through the doors of that hospital. I mean, as many children as there were in Bridgeport, and as old as she was, I was certain that I was not the first heavily pregnant woman to stroll through her lobby; but, that didn't stop her from wigging out.
"Help! Somebody, help! This woman's having a baby!"
Aw, how kind of you to notice! I thought bitterly. What was the dead give-away? My swollen stomach, the fact that I can barely stand up, or the fact that I'm whimpering like a sick puppy?
Within a matter of seconds, I found myself I was being lowered into a wheelchair.
There were five or six nurses surrounding me and they were all asking me the same question, "Are you okay?"
"Does it look like I'm okay?!" I snapped.
I wasn't trying to be rude, but what type of idiotic question was that? Clearly, they could see that I was not okay. It was plain as day that I was in pain; and thanks to my amniotic soaked pants, I smelled awful. Before I knew it, I was sobbing. Never in my life had I felt so low.
"Sssh. Sssh. It's okay, honey," one of the nurses cooed in my ear, "You're okay," she whispered as she began to push my wheelchair.
With all of the commotion going on around me, I was unware that a very unexpected visitor was standing at the door and had the lovely privilege of witnessing all of this chaos.
After 16, yes, 16, hours of pure pain, I was holding my baby girl (hooray for mother's instinct).
Aponi Malani Buckley was born at 7:45 p.m., weighing exactly 7 pounds.
'Aponi' is a Native American name meaning butterfly; and that's exactly what she is, my little butterfly.
Aponi and I were given the 'okay' to go home the very next morning, but since Beau refused to leave my side (and was still recovering from a near death experience (Death by Sunlight)), we didn't end up leaving until 8:30 that night.
Excluding little Aponi's happy gurgling, the car ride home was dead.
Beau and I didn't say a word to each other.
From the way he was holding to her and talking to her, I knew that Beau loved Aponi, but he had mixed emotions about being father.
After Beau pulled the truck into the driveway, I focused my attention on him, "How did you find out?"
Beau met my gaze through the rear-view mirror, "Find out what?"
I let out an exasperated sigh as I rolled my eyes, "You know what I'm talking about!"
Beau turned around in the drivers' seat and frowned, "I'll tell you everything if we can go inside. The temp. is dropping, and I don't want her-" his eyes flashed to Aponi, "to get sick."
"Fine."
By the time we made it inside, Aponi was fast asleep in Beau's arms. Gently, I took her from him and placed her in the crib. I stood over her, starring in awe. I still could not believe she was mine.
Once I tucked Aponi in, I joined Beau in the living room to get the answer to my question.
It turns out that after we slept together, Beau, having the mind-set of an average man, told of his vampire buddies about banging the new chick on the block.
One of his buddies was none other than Jessica Talon, the vampire who blacked-out in front of me. Apparently, she saw me coming from one of my appointments and somehow, she just knew that I was the girl Beau slept with, which meant she knew I was carrying his child.
I honestly didn't want to hear anymore. I was pissed that he would go around bragging about something like that! Sure, I wanted what happened that night to happen, but it wasn't very comforting to know that while I was in my bed, having regrets, he was running around telling all of friends that he got laid.
I don't know why it bothered me, but it did.
I just started screaming at him. I called him every name in the book. I told him that I hated him and that never wanted to see his pathetic face again.
"Don't worry about, Aponi!" I remember screaming, "She doesn't need a low-life, like you, in her life! She'll be better off without you!"
"Shayda, don't do this! Just listen!"
By now, the sun was shining brightly in the morning sky.
"I don't want to listen to you, anymore! You've said enough! Just leave! Now!" I pushed him out of the door into the scorching sunlight.
He looked at me, then up at the sun, "We'll talk later," he promised; and he began to run.
"That's right! Run, you little bitch! Just keep running!" I slammed the door in frustration, then slid to the floor.
I've never been so humiliated.
Shayda, get a grip. I pushed myself off of the floor and went into the nursery.
Aponi was lying in her crib making adorable noises with her mouth, so I took that as my cue to feed her.
For the first time since her birth, I noticed that Aponi was a spitting image of Beau. Prehaps forgetting him wasn't going to be as easy as I anticipated.
I hope you all enjoyed this post!
Later, babes!
~Avi~
About an hour after Mom and Nikki left, Aponi began fuss. It was way past her naptime, but she was fighting her sleep. "There, there, little one. It's all right. You're psychotic grandma and silly aunt are gone, now; which means it's just you and me. You can go to sleep. You won't miss a thing. I swear." 
