For the past six years.
The six week mark of my pregnancy occurred over a weekend. With each passing hour, I felt increasingly worse. I couldn't eat and wanted to throw up. That feeling was constant. Rich was determined to get me out of the house. I shuffled around, taking quick, shallow breaths as we picked out mums and pumpkins. Monday morning was horrible. I suffered through the one hour commute (mostly by train, I might add) without vomiting everywhere. I had plastic bags in my commuting bag, just in case.
I lost four days in my PTO bank.
I managed to not have to use any PTO for my OB appointments but there was stress. I was always rushing to arrive at the office as soon as possible after my appointments. I was THE tax person for this company. There was no one else to complete the work if I wasn't there. This was not a 9 to 5 gig and I made up those lost hours.
My pregnancy with the girls was slightly different in that I had a work from home arrangement. I still had to make up lost hours though. I also was not aware that I was pregnant with triplets until 17 weeks and began a medical leave at 24 weeks. My weekly appointments turned into a nightmare for Rich.
This past Monday, Grammy underwent some medical testing and procedures, which required anesthesia. We thought that she would be able to watch the girls on Tuesday but she had difficulty ridding the anesthesia from her system, in addition to being wiped out from the procedures. So there I was on Tuesday morning, Grammyless with a sickly Emmy curled up on the couch.
Bye-bye vacation day! (As you may or may not remember, all of my sick days are gone due to the stomach viruses (and pneumonia/cold from hell) that plagued our household over the winter.)
Grammy was feeling better later Tuesday morning and was able to watch Emmy at home while I brought Allie and Anna to their first tap/ballet class. (More on that later!) Out of this bad, came some good and I was happy that I had the opportunity to do that. Grammy then watched Allie and Anna while I brought Emily to the doctor. (She was such a little rock star, by the way.)
This is not intended to be a stay-at-home versus working mom debate because I have been on both sides of the fence and I know that the grass is always greener over there. I know that we are very lucky to have family who live nearby and who are always willing to help out with our kids. There are some families with two working parents and if a kid is sick, a parent HAS to stay home because you can't send a sick kid to daycare or school. There are some stay-at-home moms who have no one to help out if they themselves are sick. For the most part, Rich and I don't have to deal with these situations very often.
So instead of sitting with a sick Em in the van, I was able to peek in on Allie and Anna during dance class. Instead of schlepping three kids and a puke bucket to the doctor's office and then to the hospital to drop off cultures, I only had to schlep one kid and a puke bucket (and several changes of clothes and blankets) to the doctor's office. Thank God for Grammy. And for Molly, who watched the girls on Monday.
If there is a Get Out of Work for FREE card, it certainly hasn't ever been in my possession.