*Disclaimer: The following is a (pretty personal) account of my initial thoughts and actions when I learned I was preggers. And it's not the condensed version. If you're reading it, you're probably family or a friend, and you know all our most intimate secrets anyway. But if not, please keep in mind that it will probably seem like TMI and wasn't necessarily meant for public consumption. So ... I guess, read at your own risk?
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It's surreal and strange (slash amazing and incredible) how things work themselves out. Not necessarily the way you plan, but with a definite plan behind it all (I'm glad God has everything figured out for me, because apparently I haven't the slightest).
When just a couple weeks ago I sat down with Jon and told him I thought I finally felt "ready" (or as ready as I could be) to maybe add a little "plus one" to our fam, I had only the tiniest inkling (and even then, not really) that things could already be set in motion.
A month or so ago, when I changed into my pajamas and winced at the serious soreness in my chestal region, the possibility flashed by. But it was gone literally as quickly as it came, and I continued along as if nothing were different. Still, the sneaking suspicion was there - even if it was just a subconscious feeling. But then I couldn't exactly ignore it. Especially when I began to suspect that I'd missed at least one dot. I say at least one because, since weaning from the meds in June (yes, June. I'll explain that later..), I'd gone back to my irregular, haphazard, completely unpredictable self and I wasn't really sure exactly when that time was coming and with what frequency (Crap! I'm a bad mommy already!). Here's hoping they'll be able to set me straight when I visit the doctor for total confirmation and reassurance that I am not completely insane.
I do wonder, though. Whether already being pregnant was what made up my mind that I was down with the babies, or if I decided that and then it happened. Doesn't that just blow your mind-hole? (Kidding).
The thing is, we were fairly ... careful ... up until the day that I spoke with Jon. And that day we simply decided that, instead of trying, we would just "not not try" (anybody who's seen Marley & Me will understand that I was completely freaked out after deciding against my better judgment to see that movie and hearing her say the same words, then watching in horror as they went to confirm the ensuing pregnancy and couldn't find a heartbeat). We didn't want to put any undue pressure on things, because honestly, who knew how long it would take? And if it didn't happen right away (or didn't happen at all), we would have been too disappointed to keep telling people "sometime soon." Or having them know we were in babymaking mode and be expecting it to happen anytime and then waiting and waiting while it didn't. Of course I truly didn't suspect it would happen on the first real non-try-try or that it had already begun to run its course.
I also definitely wanted Jon to be the first to know. I can just see me pulling a Rachel and taking a sip of wine, then spitting it out and unwittingly exposing the secret to everyone. Or someone noticing something unusual, pointing at me and going "you're pregnant!" Which, of course I wouldn't outright deny if I had an idea that I actually was because I feel like there's something inherently wrong with lying about such a huge thing like that and karma or God or something would probably smite me for doing so.
Anyway. So I had suspicions, but I waited. I tried to think back to when I first felt the chest pain and couldn't. I tried to remember when my last dot was and got nothing. Dangit! I had no idea when this might've happened (if it had happened), but I knew I should go ahead and test the hypothesis. So I hit up the local Kmart the Tuesday before christmas (where I could be fairly certain not to run into anyone in my immediate circle) and carefully hid the tests that I had spent way too many painstaking minutes deciding upon in a box of feminine products (ironic, no?). Also ironically, Tuesday was our girls night, at which we unfailingly discussed excruciatingly minute details of pregnancy and getting pregnant (me, the whole time in my head: holy crap, holy crap, holy crap). But, I made it to the 24th (the next day) and pretended be asleep when Jon went to work. And when I was sure he'd gone and not forgotten anything, it was time to unleash the stick.
Like I said, I'd spent far too much time just figuring out which brand and type of test to get (and I only got a couple because btw pregnancy tests are way expensive), so I went with the standard EPT for the first try. Hands shaking, I unwrapped the little white stick of destiny and somehow managed to uncap the purple end (how exactly I was supposed to "go" on this without getting it all over myself, I don't know). At this point, I prayed that God grant me strength no matter what the outcome. I was strangely hopeful, and a little worried at what I might feel if it were a no. Again, I have no idea where this sudden desire for a little one came from, but at that moment, it was present in full force. After gathering my wits and trying to aim correctly while my heart pounded out of my chest, I accomplished the goal, laid down the test and subsequently freaked out for not having read the directions to figure out what came next and what meant what on the reading. As I walked away for the longest two minutes ever, I caught a glimpse of the lines forming and tried not to react to what I was pretty sure was already there.
After I weathered those two whole minutes (with Bo and Hannabelle's help), I approached cautiously.
A plus? Was that really a plus? Wait, did that mean yes or no? As scatterbrained as I was, I had to check and re-check the instructions at least five times to be absolutely sure that what it was telling me was yes. But there it was, clear and blue. I think I screeched. And, to my utter surprise, there was no sudden queasiness or fear. I wasn't scared or overwhelmed; I just felt strangely happy. And grateful. And pretty freaking excited. Of course I had and still have the normal worries after that initial euphoria: Will it work out? Will the baby be healthy if it works out? How do I tell everybody and when?!? Do I have to stop drinking sweet tea? Oh crap I need to get a new doctor. And they are going to be seeing a lot of my Britney. Dangit why didn't Jon let me get that laser hair removal? (probably for the best, since babies cost a whole lot of money). Dude, babies cost a whole lot of money.
My course of action after that was to eat a healthy(ish) breakfast, do a double confirmation with the digital test that actually says "pregnant" or "not pregnant," and figure out how exactly to bust it on Jon (yesssss the fun part).
When the second one said yes, I kind of believed it. I mean it all still seemed so unreal and strange, but I was pretty sure those things didn't often give false positives. I decided to use a little framed picture my mom had given me about a year ago that said "Anybody can be a father, but it takes someone special to be a daddy" to break the news. She'd apparently made it for my dad years and years ago. I guess I'd been saving it for something like this, so I wrote a little dedication on the back ("In case you didn't figure it out from that, WE'RE PREGNANT") and taped the digital test there for emphasis. I wrapped the back, knowing full well that though Jon would read the words on the front, it would probably still not compute, and I'd have to tell him to turn it over. As you can see below, that totally happened.
Christmas day was a blur. I couldn't sleep; too excited and nervous about the best present ever that awaited Jon in the toe of his stocking. It was the first present I'd wrapped, so knowing and keeping it in even this long was a major feat. Plus, we'd gone to bed late, so I figured Jon wouldn't wake up until at least 9. Thankfully, his Christmas jitters got the best of him, too, and we were both up at 7:15.
When we finally got to the "special present," it was even more glorious than I had imagined. I think it's better to show you than to tell you because I won't do it justice.
Though i wish we'd had a video camera to record it, this will have to do:
(sorry it's so dark!)
And of course, shortly after this huge, life-altering revelation, Jon's family was heading over to do their Christmas with us. After he figured it out, we'd decided that it was probably best to wait until we were past the initial danger zone to tell anyone (including our parents - though we were painfully aware that this would be extremely difficult). So obviously, Jon barely had a minute to let it sink in and we were rushing around frantically hiding the "evidence," which included yet another test because Jon thought it would be awesome to get me some and put them in my stocking (since we were not not trying). Jon apologizes to his family for seeming distant or in any way rude on Christmas day.
One brunch at my mom's, a "game of things," an ill-chosen movie, a lasagna tradition and several rounds of Dance Dance Revolution later, Christmas was over and we were alone again to bask in (i.e. scare ourselves about) the news.
When I thought back on it, I started realizing that all the hints I hadn't known were hints had been present in my body for a while. You can't imagine how frustrating it is, though, not to be able to think back far enough to know when they started! I'd been exhausted (unnaturally so) on and off, had some back pain and felt constantly bloated. I guess it's not something I could describe, but there was definitely a little voice in the back of my head reminding me of the possibility even before I really had an idea. I had just ignored it.
Then I thought about all the things I'd done wrong in the past... oh... month and a half or so (my best guess as to how far along I was) and began to panic. Since most of the people who will be reading this are in our group, you know that I like to learn by observation, and I'd been trying to take everything in from the few people I know who've been pregnant. I remembered thinking when Jaclyn and Chad revealed their big news that waiting until after the first trimester when much of the danger was past and the doctor could do an ultrasound sounded like a really smart thing. But nobody tells you how hard it is to wait. Then I started to recall the (relatively few but still disconcerting) alcoholic beverages I'd partaken of. And that time when I had what I thought were cramps, so I used a heating pad for like a day straight. Both big no-no's on the pregnancy front from what I understand. And then there's my family history and the knowledge that my parents didn't have an easy time with their first conception, which did not carry through to completion. I am so, so afraid of that happening.
So I'll try to wait. And when I choose to tell you and get excited and give you the address of this blog, just know that we didn't keep it from you for any reason other than the fact that were were sincerely scared, and we really wanted it to have the best chance of being true.
It's the biggest blessing and gift I've ever been given, and I'm still not sure how to handle it. So you'll have to bear with me as we start this crazy ride, because I've never done it before. So I'll learn as I go, and I'll try to post a few recaps of what's been happening with me and us and to keep a record of what life was like before and with baby. And I promise, they won't all be as long as this one. ;)
Love,
M.
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