Great Expectations: Lapinskas Land

Tara writes at her blog, Adventures in Lapinskas Land. In her words, “I’m just a person, like anyone else, writing down my life for your entertainment.  Plus, blogging is cheaper than therapy.” I wholeheartedly agree.

She’s a wife and a working mom to two little girls, a couple of adorable dancers. She’s doing a fantastic (and inspirational) job losing weight, and is a loyal #iPPPer (which, of course, I love). Tara shares great stories and pictures of her family, and I adore following along.

Thank you for sharing here today, Tara!


I was 25 years old.  Newly married, freshly graduated from college.  Trying to figure out what to do with my life.  That was when my doctor told me that I would need fertility drugs to get pregnant.  I believe the conversation went something like this: “Are you trying to get pregnant?” Me: “No.  Not necessarily trying to stop it, but, not trying either.”  Doctor: “Let me know when you want to get pregnant, we’ll get you started on fertility drugs.”  This was due to a recent diagnosis of PCOS (poly-cystic ovarian syndrome).

I was surprised, but really not ready for kids yet.  So, it was kind of okay.  I mean – okay until I was ready to make a decision and really try to get pregnant.  Until then, I thought, let’s have some fun!  Plus – I still did not have my career path lined up.  I had spent the last year of college just trying to graduate and get married.  I had not planned for the life I would have of post-graduate wedded bliss.

So, 2 months later I was pregnant.

I had pictured pregnancy as this interesting science experiment type of deal.  I mean, how weird is it to have a child growing inside your body?  Of course, I knew I would be blissfully happy, making flower wreaths to wear in my hair as the sun shone down on my perfect, yet pregnant body.  And I would talk to my baby, and read to my baby, while still in the womb.  Play music for the baby.  My husband would be just as enamored of the pregnancy and baby as I was.  Harps would play, we’d have a hippie-type love circle, birds would sing and mosquitos would never bite again.

And then I found out what pregnancy is really like.  And I swear, the older women around me, pointed and laughed at me when they re-canted their earlier comments about pregnancy.   Before I was pregnant, they all told me how fun, and great pregnancy was.  Then laughed at the torture that I was going through, and told me how much they disliked being pregnant.  Liars!!  Truth in advertising – I should totally sue them.

Pregnancy started as the most terrifying moment in my life.  Seeing those two lines on a stick made me break down in tears.  This was really happening!  I was going to be responsible for a person.  Um, plus, how was this baby supposed to get out of my body again?  TERR-IF-IED!

Shortly after I came to terms with my reality, the vomiting set in.  Like, guerrilla-style vomiting.  I would be sitting, trying to control the nausea, when suddenly, I would be vomiting.  I puked in both cars, every part of the bathroom except the toilet, the garbage can, almost tagged the cat once.  She had the good sense to run as soon as I moved.  Hit the computer, the floor, and even the bed.  That one was the best, since it happened after we were home with the baby.  That was when morning sickness finally ended for me – at home, with the baby.  Those jackasses said morning sickness would only last the first trimester.  My cat, rug, and bedspread beg to differ.

Did I mention the anger?  I had pictured sunshine and flowers.  What I got was an angry woman, always on the verge of a breakdown of yelling, or plotting revenge on everyone.  I couldn’t stand to be touched.  I hated when people would tell me that based on the way I was carrying, they could determine the sex.  Ugh – don’t look at me hard enough to determine how I’m carrying!

My family came over one day, but hadn’t called.  I was in the shower.  I pretended not to know they were outside because I was that spiteful that they hadn’t called me.

I almost killed the grocery lady when she asked when I was due.  “3 days ago.” I growled.  She took a step back and said, “Um, ok.  Can I help you out then?”  Growling again, “No.  Maybe carrying all this crap around will get labor started.”

I routinely told my child that she was evicted.  Her lease was up.  Get out.  GET OUT!!

And then she finally decided to move out.  I had pictured labor being somewhat easier.  I would power through like a champ.  I would only labor for about 5 hours, and push like 3 times.  The baby would just pop out.

Labor started just after midnight.  The contractions so painful, they woke me from sleep.  I called the doc, and since I was only a week late, they said, come on in.  By the time we got to the hospital, a few hours after it had started, I was dilated to a whopping 1 cm. Whoo hoo!

They ended up breaking my water.  I got my first dose of epidural about 9 hours into this ordeal, when I hit 3 cm.  After laboring all day and into the night, I finally hit 10 cm about 10 pm.  Those sadists at the hospital turned the epidural down, and upped the pitocin, almost as a celebration to start pushing.  My contractions were constant.  They did not come in waves.  I did not get breaks in between.  My only memory from this time is my husband holding a tub for me to throw up in, and me being in so much pain I bit him.  Oh yeah.  I.BIT.HIM.

After about 2.5 hours of pushing, they had decided progress was too slow, the baby was stuck with her head through the cervix, and her shoulders wouldn’t come out.  Plus, there seemed to be a lot of blood.  I could not sign the c-section agreement fast enough.  Finally, my baby was out, about 24 hours after labor had started.  She ruptured my uterus, and they had to pull her back through my cervix.  So, after they worked on me for about an hour, I got to meet my daughter for the first time.  My husband was already feeding her.  She was beautiful – exactly as I had pictured.  My eyes and nose, his lips and coloring.  She was 8 pounds, 7 ounces, 22 inches long.  And finally here, which meant pregnancy was OVER!

Even though my expectations for a fun, loving, happy pregnancy never came to fruition, being that unhappy for so long taught me how to truly appreciate my sweet, happy, quiet baby.  Plus, after all that, I’ll have to make sure we torture her as a teenager.  Payback’s a bitch, right?

Follow the Lapinskas Land saga at Tara’s blog, Twitter, Pinterest, and Instagram.

11 Responses to Great Expectations: Lapinskas Land

  1. Co-Pilot Mom says:

    I was very nauseous for my first pregnancy. I threw up for four months – multiple times a day, from the time I woke up until I went to bed (which was usually around 6:30 pm or so!)
    Having our babies to hold after pregnancy and birth are over is the best part. 🙂

    • Tara says:

      Absolutely Agreed! I'm wish I was cool enough to be vomit free since '03, but my oldest came in '04, so I'll have to figure out a new slogan. 🙂

  2. Alison says:

    I was huge in the final trimester in my first pregnancy. Walking was torture because my hips hurt. I barely slept.
    Fortunately, my son decided to turn up a few days before his due date.
    Labor is another story. He was pulled out with a ventouse after 15 hours of labor because there was hardly any progress & we were both tired and in distress. Then, massive blood loss for me. BUT, I wasn't pregnant anymore, and he was here, so that was awesome.
    Of course, I swore I wouldn't do it again, but I did. Obviously. 🙂

    • Tara says:

      Ok – what's a ventouse? I'm so going to google that! It's funny, I swore the same thing! But, since the whole ruptured uterus thing, I wasn't eligible for vbac, so that made the prospect way more appealing, knowing that I wouldn't have to labor again. 🙂

  3. jwilliams057 says:

    I was an angry pregnant lady. My husband was scared for me to drive because he truly thought I would run over someone in the parking lot. A couple of times I came close.

    • Tara says:

      Did you have flashes to Fried Green Tomatoes? "I have more insurance than you do!" Hahahahah! I probably would have done the same thing, but instead decided to take it out on my husband and neighbors and friends and family.

  4. Laura says:

    I hear you lady! 36 hours in labour with my first – constant non-stop contractions like you wrote about with my second. My second baby refused to even drop, so despite being 2 weeks overdue and in some serious labour, I still needed pitocin to get my little boy down.

    I loved pregnancy once. I'm super over it now. 🙂

    • Tara says:

      LOL! I loved the idea of pregnancy, and that awesomeness they show on TV. You deserve a medal for 36 hours, and the second baby. I am bowing down to your super-woman-ness!

  5. Oh my gosh. Ugh! I hated being pregnant too, but a not-fun delivery would really top it off nicely. [sarcasm]

  6. audreyneilson says:

    OMG I totally know how you felt!!! Thankfully I had easy fast labor, but the whole bed rest, boys trying to come early, and being head down pushing on my vajayjay was totally uncomfortable! That being said I would trade almost anything for that moment when you first lay eyes on them! Just that moment though!

    • Tara says:

      So agree! That first moment is burned into my memory. Although, for some reason, with the second, I remember them holding her upside down showing me a birthmark on her back more than I remember holding her.