The Deal Mommy

I thought it would be fun to tell a #TBT Ireland story today. This is one of those stories with a clear moral I’ll share up front: Be careful what you wish for.

The time: February 2003. I was 10 weeks pregnant and MISERABLE in a way only a 1st time pregnant woman can be. Every part of my body was acting in a way I didn’t recognize, including my eyes which were tearing up at least daily. So it was probably no shock to Deal Dad to-be when he walked in and saw me bawling on the couch.

The topic that the day’s tirade? The sudden realization that my life was over (pregnancy brain tends towards the dramatic). Let me explain.  No, let me sum up.

Our first seven years of marriage were education and career driven. We both also worked in consulting so travel was a constant in our lives. Deal Dad worked in Australia, I studied in Cuba and Thailand and interned in China. Even outside of work we filled our passports with regularity.

And in my hormonal brain it was about to all come crashing down.  I suddenly pictured a bleak existence punctuated with only an occasional trip to Disney World (gasp!) or to see relatives in the Midwest.  We had one more trip coming up in a week- to Spain- and then it was ALL over.

See where this is going?

So while we’re in Spain we pop into a Irish pub with internet access (this is pre-wifi days, folks) and Deal Dad checks his work email.  And in his in-box sits his next assignment.

It’s in Dublin.

Starting in a week.

For six months.

Ummmm…WHAT?

And here’s why Deal Dad and I have made it 23 years: we looked at each other and high fived.  (Ladies, if you find that guy, grab him and don’t let go!)

Moving on a week’s notice with severe morning sickness?  Sure!

Giving birth on another continent? Why not?

And that’s exactly what we did.  We got home from Spain and Deal Dad left right away, with me joining him two weeks later. Looking back we were so naive it was tragic but I’m grateful I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I never would have done it if I’d had too much time to think about it.

There was a STEEP learning curve- for instance it took me a week to figure out that in Ireland you give birth at a Maternity hospital which is not a regular hospital. My first semester morning sickness stretched 42 weeks- throwing up in a Dublin alley for reasons not related to Guinness is not an experience I’d recommend. It was lonely during the day- thank god for the expat community and a group of Moms who invited me to their weekly playgroup even though my kid wasn’t exactly ready to play.

On the upside: Dublin’s bus system has a wonderful network of day tours and I explored more of the countryside than would have been possible any other way.  Every walk to the store was an adventure and every cab ride an odyssey: the Irish are chatty under normal circumstances but put an obvious topic in front of them…

And there’s a special irony to moving to a place so steeped in pub culture pregnant. The upside is that my OB “prescribed” me a pint of Guinness a week and I saw pre-natal vitamin ads in the pub ladies’ room- so I guess I wasn’t alone!

The best part? Deal Kid has a birth story like no one else’s and an extra homeland.  We went back 10 years later and I was tearing up again often- but for a different reason.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Deal Kid.

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