I know what you're thinking, what does this have to do with the pregnancy fetish???
Well, it has to do with my reason for taking chances and going on adventures with pregnant women. Life is short.
I truly believe that we manifest our thoughts into reality. In 2015, I had a lot of negativity floating in my head, about my job, future, family, relationships, everything. One Saturday in April the emotional pain became physical. Out of nowhere, I got an intense and debilitating pain in my chest like I've never felt before. Fortunately, I was with my "girlfriend" at the time. No, she wasn't pregnant. I drove her home with the pain still punishing me. We stopped and got water ice, and finally it started to fade away. I thought that was the end of it, whatever it was.
A few weeks later on my dad's birthday, I was heading towards the house for dinner, and the chest pain started again. It was just as intense. As soon as I arrived I had to rest on the couch because I simply couldn't move. I barely got through dinner, but again the pain slowly subsided. My family kept asking me what was wrong. I told them, "STRESS!"
June proved to be even more difficult. Going out for happy hour I would frequently encounter the chest pain, but this time a new element came into play. Pain in my left arm. I couldn't get past the pressure. But when I finally did, I was home, sprawled out on my bed. One day in late June I finally decided to go to the doctor. The doctor did an EKG and said everything was fine, and that the pain I was experiencing was due to heartburn. So that's what I thought.
Two weeks later, on a Sunday, a girlfriend of mine invited me to walk around the city with her. The pain started creeping up on my again as we began our walk. At moments I felt like it was fading, but then it came back with a vengeance. When I finally made it home I collapsed onto my bed. Any other time in my life, curling up into a ball and drifting off to sleep usually provided some relief. But not this time. The pain was tremendous and I'm quite certain I drifted in and out of consciousness once or twice.
I took a shower, but it didn't help one bit. I looked in the mirror, and I was pale as a ghost. Then I began throwing up. I called my mother and then my father. I told them I needed to go to the hospital. My dad took a little longer than usual to arrive. I felt like I was going to die on the way to the hospital even though it was only 10 minutes from my house. I thought I was having a panic attack, that's what happened the last time my father drove me to the hospital in his car. I wished that I wasn't though, because if it was a panic attack, there's no way I could face something like it again. Well, I got my wish. When they did the EKG they couldn't believe it, so they had to do it again. Next thing I knew I was in a triage room with about 7 different people hooking me up, feeding me pills, and poking me. That's when they told me "we think you're having a heart attack." They rushed me to surgery to insert a stent into my chest to open the blood clot. I remember hearing the one of the doctors say something like "we need to do this right now." I spent 5 days in the hospital.
I died several times, and I probably should have died much earlier than I did. All of those pains I felt in the weeks leading up to my heart attack were heart attacks too, but I pushed through them. I came really close to not pushing through that day. But I did, and I'm still here.
My story above is not intended or implied to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. I am not a doctor. My story is based on my personal experience. Never disregard professional medical advice, or delay in seeking it, because of what you read above. Never rely on information on the web in place of seeking professional medical advice.