(Written on June 11, 2014)
So, I've had a few days to process.
I am pregnant.
I am going to have another baby.
I am going to have another baby.
I am going to have another baby.
I am going to have another baby!
(Say those sentences in a progressively louder and more hyper-sounding voice, and you'll have my inflection down perfectly.)
To say I was surprised would be an understatement.
I'm not sure why. I mean, we were having unprotected sex. Hello, that's how babies are made! I'm not sure what we were thinking on that one, other than figuring it took us so long last time that it probably wouldn't happen so easily. Honestly, with Nick and I, we tend to just not think about it.
Wanna know a secret? We have never used a condom. Seriously. Almost 9 years of marriage, not once. No sex before marriage, so no possibility there. First 5 years of our marriage I was on birth control, and the next 3 years we were trying to have a baby. I've never opened one of those foil packets. We've never even bought any. I wouldn't have any idea where to start. I probably could've sent Nick to go get some (he would have a better idea than me, I'm guessing), but honestly, I didn't even think to ask him to. So, over the last 14 months since Avonlea has been born, we've just been....well, au naturel, as they say.
That's probably irresponsible, especially since I was so freaked out to have a baby. But I genuinely, honestly, had NO IDEA we would have any success again. It's like the little part of my brain that remembers how babies are made just inconveniently forgot about it. And it's not like I frequent the condom aisle at the drug store, either, so as to be subtly reminded.
Over the last few weeks, I have had weird moments of thinking, "I'm pregnant." I took the pregnancy test after a couple of days of thinking, "I think I'm late." When I clipped coupons this month, I clipped some pregnancy test coupons. I was having nightmares about being pregnant. I was daydreaming about if people would think I was crazy if I called adoption agencies to give up the baby I was dreaming I had. I was relieved when feeling what I thought was my pre-period cramping, and wore a pad one night, just in case (that was a waste). When I took the test, a little voice in the back of my head said, "It's going to be positive."
I took the test while Nick was out re-enrolling in AAA for the year, and left it in the bathroom for a while, forgotten, while I looked after Avonlea. I only remembered to go in and look at it because Nick arrived home, and I didn't want to freak him out with a used pregnancy test in the bathroom.
Last time, immediately after finding that little blue line, I was a smidge disappointed (which I detailed in this post).
This time, I was downright freaked. out. Full on, horror movie levels of scared. Approximately one million and one thoughts screamed through my head at the same time: "I can't do this. I still have a baby--how can I possibly be prepared to take on another one! I've seen my friends who have a toddler and a newborn--they look like they want to go into fetal position at any moment. I can't handle that! I'm not back to my pre-baby weight! I'm going to get so incredibly fat! I can't do this. I can't DO this!"
After the fear, came the shock (and irritation): "Seriously? Again? STUPID Allison. WHY didn't you go and buy some freaking condoms?!?"
To top it off, Nick and I weren't really talking to each other very much. We were in a "fight", though we don't really have knock-down, drag-out fights. We just kind of do the silent treatment. (Nick will probably read this later and say, "We were in a fight?" That's how well we fight.)
When he got home, and I checked the test, I thought for a split second about waiting to tell him the news. Last time, I had such a cute way of telling him. But now, I was just so upset that we were in a fight that I wanted to resolve it as soon as possible.
Nick started to tell me something about the AAA thing, and all I could do was start to cry. Nick, of course, wondered what was wrong, and I apologized for my part of the fight. And then I said, "I think we have a huge problem."
I got up off the couch to go get the pregnancy test, and Nick followed me. I brought it back out to him in the hallway, and he got a huge smile on his face, and said, "Uh-oh! What does that mean?" (in a sly, I-already-know-what-it-means kind of way). I'm really glad he was smiling and happy, because I was bawling by this point.
I probably should've waited to tell him in a more fun way, but I just couldn't think of how I would get excited about it enough to be creative and happy when I told him, so I blurted it out to him over a laundry basket of dirty socks.
That sounds terrible to say. I really hope that Biscuit doesn't hate me later in life for knowing that I wasn't initially excited about his/her presence in my womb.
But above all the emotions; the fear, the worry, the shock--I never once thought that we should get rid of it. I never thought we should abort, or put it up for adoption. This is OUR BABY. And whether or not we were ready for its creation is a moot point (or, a moo point). And deep down, I was happy. Definitely not outrageously happy, but I was at least minutely pleased. In the midst of my tears on Nick's shirt, I was able to smile about the new life we had created.
Now that a few days have passed, it still hits me like a ton of bricks when I remember, again, that I am pregnant. But I also realize a little bit more each day that it really is going to be okay. God would not have given us this life if it was not meant for us. If we would not be able to handle it. It might take me a while to be 100% gung-ho about it, but that's okay.
We're going to have another baby.
And it's going to be great.
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