Friday, August 1, 2008

This is me...for now.

I'm a daughter, granddaughter, working member of society, a sister, a pre-pharmacy student, a new wife, and I just found out, last week, that I'm going to be someone's mommy as well.

The news came as an absolute surprise, though, looking back, I shouldn't have been so surprised. Birth control pills made me ill, and they hurt even more in our wallet as we were (at the time) not insured. Having an irregular cycle, I mistakingly figured it would be more difficult to conceive. Thinking it was relatively "safe," we used "safe days" and I decided to ditch the pill and "see what happens." Well, we all know what happens: Baby makes three.


The morning I found out I was in the family way, I awoke, late for class. I panicked for a few seconds, but decided to skip anyway and make DH a more-than-the-normal-cold-cereal breakfast. Something in the back of my mind somehow reminded me that Aunt Flow had delayed her visit for longer than usual, so I decided I should probably take a moment to wizz on a stick.

Now, I have taken many-a-negative test since I've gotten married, seeing as how, as aforementioned, I'm irregular, and while on birth control, I had to test nearly every month to make sure I wasn't hosting a bun in my oven before starting a new pack. Because of this reason, I usually keep a spare test, or two, under the bathroom sink.

This particular morning, I dug out the box from behind the extra TP, opened the little fruit roll-up-esque package, tested, and watched, like so many other mornings, as the result faded from white to a light blue, single, horizontal line.

I tossed the test, made a spectacular breakfast, and got ready for the day. As I revisited the bathroom to brush my teeth, I looked again at the test. (Call me OCD, but I usually look at it two or three times throughout the day - just for good measure.) I noticed that while the negative result did show, the little "control" window contained zip. Not even a hint of blue.

I drove DH to work and kissed him on the cheek as I dropped him off. I didn't clue him in to the information I was harboring inside. We had a pregnancy "scare" (though I hate to use the word "scare" - it's not a horrible thing, after all), soon after we were married. After the test proved to be a negative result, I could see that he had been excited, and was now let down. I didn't like to see that deflated balloon look in his eyes, so I decided from then on that I would only tell him if the results of future tests were indeed something to be excited about.

I needed to visit the pharmacy anyway, and as I passed the family planning aisle, the same annoying voice inside told me I should probably re-test. My sister was with me, and as we stood looking at the vast array and variety of tests, confused, and in a moment of panic, I snagged three different tests off the shelf.

Back home, I chugged 44 ounces of lemonade and decided to make my way into the bathroom for the first test. I waited and expected to see a negative result, as usual. As the second, vertical line appeared, I felt my pulse throb in my body and my breath catch in my throat. I ran out, grabbed my sister off the computer chair and dragged her into the bathroom to look at my pee stick. The result was, in fact, positive.

I immediately began hyperventilating and laughing at the same time. However, the giggles soon turned into uncontrollable sobbing as the gravity of the situation hit me. I. Am. Pregnant. I am pregnant, my husband and I are both in school, and we are basically broke and live at home.

I cried. I cried like a little baby.

My other sister soon arrived and provided me with some soda to produce enough pee for the other two tests. I know the first one was probably sufficient, but I had to be convinced. Of course, the other two proved to be positive.

While I made my sisters swear that they wouldn't tell my offspring, "Mommy cried for two hours when she found out she was going to have you," I tried to plan a nice, romantic way to tell my husband he was a father. But when he got home, he was tired from work and just wanted a nap. I decided there was no better method than simplicity at this point, and I handed him the sticks so he could see himself. At first, I don't think he realized what they were, but he caught on soon. He laughed, covered my face in kisses, and then made fun of me for taking three different tests.


I now find myself trying to redefine my roles and figure out how I plan on surviving Pharmacy school avec baby and husband. My husband is wonderful and loving, but he'll be just as stressed with his work and education as I am, so I know I'll have to shoulder a lot of the baby stress.

I believe babies come into this world, and if you look hard enough, and work hard enough, they provide their own means of shelter and food. I'm not worried about cash for the first time in my life. I'm worried about balancing everything else, and on top of that, being a good parent! I guess I have another seven months or so to figure it all out. But for now, here I am.

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