This blog post is pretty personal. I originally wrote it a couple of months ago…
I’m a scaredy cat.
Even though I’m the sort of person who can readily hop on a plane and travel the world without so much as a few pages copied from a guidebook (and sometimes not even that much), I’m just, deep, down at heart, a chicken. If something seems too daunting, I don’t dive into it – I avoid it.
So, I probably would’ve known about this whole thing earlier. All the signs were there. I had a feeling inside of me that there was something going on that was unusual, but instead of being proactive, I put things off, hoping against all hope that whatever my intuition was telling me was misguided.
I should’ve known better – my intuition is always right…
I notice the first signs while I’m teaching. Extreme tiredness and grumpiness. Nothing out of the ordinary for me, since my PMS symptoms are usually really strong. I debate whether or not to go back on the pill because this one time I feel so bad, I think I’ll scream and I don’t want to have to deal with this right before the wedding. Between working and moving, my schedule has been thrown completely off and all I want is for my cycle to end.
and I wait….
This is strange for me – unless I’m stressed (which I am, though), I’m like a clock. I know the moving, wedding planning, and working is getting to me, but this much?
Something inside of me tells me that things in my body are different. For a week I wake up in the middle of the night, heart beating wildly, unable to sleep. It feels like there is an unknown entity taking over my body – visions of horror movies unleashing their vise-like hold on my psyche.
What if, I ask Doug the day after one of these episodes, I’m…well…you know…pregnant?
It wouldn’t be the end of the world, he says. It might be in God’s plan for us.
The thought lingers in my mind for a good week. I keep pushing it away because I did have some mild cramps and some bleeding. I am just about ready to go to get my pill prescription refilled when I decide to go ahead and take a test just in case.
It reminds me of being a teenager all over again.
Walking in the drugstore the same nervousness grips me like when I was 17 and considering sleeping with my boyfriend. Back then I knew that I wasn’t really ready (and, we ultimately didn’t because of my then strong religious beliefs and the fact that I didn’t love him), but at the time I thought it would be wise to have some protection on hand just in case.
As I walked down the aisle those 20-odd years ago, I remember being totally overwhelmed at whatever lay ahead of me. As fate would have it, I ran into a high school friend, chickened out and bought something simple like gum instead.
This day in the drugstore seems no different, except I muster up my courage and go through with the purchase. I throw the box in the back of the car and head over to one of my favorite cafes to write.
When I get home, I look at the box, fear once again rearing its head. Hands shaking, not certain if I can go through with this.
But of course after a few deep breaths I do. It feels like the first time I went scuba-diving in Hawaii where I had to end my dive early because I started hyperventilating. I am confined within the 16 square foot space of my bathroom, the pressure inside of me reminiscent of the weight of the water on that particular dive, pushing me down, closing me in. I’m unable to do much but wait.
The box says to wait 5 minutes, but the answer appears almost immediately. First one blue line in the left window and then a minute later another line in the right.
There’s got to be some sort of mistake, I think to myself. This can’t be real. Maybe the test is wrong. (Being the thrifty person that I am, I had gotten the generic brand, after all).
But it is there, clear as day. I am pregnant.
Even though this is something I’ve always wanted, I’m not ready. I’m terrified and start sobbing uncontrollably.