However, I was not physically feeling so great. Inevitably, being around so many germs along with the physical demands of caring for an amputee caused a lot of the wives come down with something eventually. Many women would get terrible bladder infections because they could just never leave the room to relieve themselves. Others would get skin rashes from touching the Afghanistan dust that had lingered on their husband’s skin right when they returned. Then, there were the run-of-the-mill colds and flus that none of us could shake because we never slept, we were dehydrated, and we ate meals out of vending machines. My situation didn’t really fit any of that, though. Sure, I had all those problems at some point, but it was in our first ninety or so days at Walter Reed. We were well into seven months. Whatever it was, I was completely sidelined by the time we got back. I could sleep from 8:00 p.m. to 8:00 a.m., take a two-hour nap midday, then fall back to sleep at 8:00 p.m. again. I had no appetite, and I was losing weight. After about a week and a half of this, I woke up one morning with the same groggy feeling. Then, before I knew it, I was running to the bathroom in a cold sweat. Not to get sick, but rather, from a thought.
“Paige?” Josh asked. “Are you okay?” I opened the door to the bathroom and stared at him. He returned a quizzical look. “Babe? What’s wrong?” I tossed an object at him, which he clumsily caught. Sitting up in bed, fumbling for his glasses, he finally looked at the plastic stick with two double lines. All the color drained from both of our faces.
My voice shook with fear, excitement, fear, happiness, fear, and disbelief. “We’re going to have a baby.”
JOSH
It works!!!!! I thought to myself.
Eeewww was my next thought. “Did you pee on this?”
“Yes, Josh! Is there anyone else here? I just took that test. I’m… pregnant.” She had to sit down for that one. I could tell that the gears in Paige’s head were turning faster than she could process. She stood up, sat down, and paced around the room, more than likely thinking about what we would have to do to get ready for a baby. All I could think was, I’m going to be a dad. I’m going to be a dad! I just couldn’t stop saying it.
Watching Paige, I realized that she had not felt good in a while. Of course, none of the caregivers ever felt like themselves. They hardly slept, and they were constantly on their feet, helping us out. I guess I had actually noticed less of that. Her usual buzzing around had significantly slowed down in the past few weeks. Even in Breckenridge she couldn’t really stay up late and didn’t feel like eating the amazing food. I just thought it was the altitude!
Paige continued to pace and think, which made her already look like a mom. This would be tough for her, no doubt. But I just couldn’t help but think about how fortunate I was to be one of the lucky few who could do this after all I had been through. Man, I can’t wait for my urology appointment next week! They always ask, “How are things going?” Ha! They are going to fall over when I tell them that Paige is pregnant! Despite the odds and the undesirable conditions we lived in, Paige was pregnant. I was just so unbelievably excited. Paige started doing that thing where she chews on her cuticles, and I grabbed her hand to invite her to sit next to me. “Paige,” I said, trying to call her back down to earth. She looked up at me with a nervous expression. “Paige, we’re going to be awesome parents.” That was all it took for a smile to break across her face and for both of us to start crying.
PAIGE
The next obvious step was to make an appointment with an obstetrician. When the appointment day came, there I sat at the doctor’s office next to a lady who was clearly in her third trimester filling out a lengthy form. It was the same form I had on my clipboard. The pink sheet asked the following:
1. Are you currently pregnant?
2. How many weeks?
3. Have you been to our office before?
4. How many children do you have?
5. How many pregnancies have you had?
6. Have you had any images on the current pregnancy?
Being a new mom comes with its own level of cluelessness. But every military mom knows that the level of cluelessness increases exponentially when you’re a military spouse. As much as I hate to say it, military health care is both slow and impersonal. I learned I would not have the same doctor at Walter Reed Medical Center throughout my entire pregnancy. I would see a different doctor or nurse practitioner every time I went for a check-up. Doctors and nurses rotated with deployments just like the soldiers, which made the OB-GYN office a lot more like the DMV. I glanced at the other pregnant mom and wondered how this must feel for her. Not really knowing whether this worked differently in a regular hospital or not, I just accepted reality and filled out the form.
After seeing my positive
