11 weeks, 4 days

Hi everyone, and welcome to my new blog! For the past few years, I’ve (very, very) sporadically kept a running blog that sort of expanded out to cover a variety of useless and vapid topics in my life. Like football. Selling a house. People cutting me off in traffic. Stuff that makes me tick or ticks me off, but that really isn’t worth writing about. In fact, for the past few years, blogging has held little appeal for me. Life was stable, even good, I was starting to look toward the future but not really sure what to do yet. I just didn’t have much to say.

Well, that is NOT the case anymore. Because in about seven-ish months time, I’m going to be starting a brand new life – as a parent. That’s right…we’re having a baby.

I’ll start at the beginning. For awhile now, Jonathan (my husband, in case you don’t know him already) was just sort of waiting for me. Having talked myself into believing that the chances I would ever get pregnant were slim-to-none (another post for another day, but yes, we will cover that whole thing), I was in a state of ovarian nihilism. I thought to myself “Hell, let’s just go to rock concerts, spoil our dog excessively, and dote on my precious nephew in the meantime.” I think it’s kind of like 15 yr. olds that have sex and don’t think they’ll get pregnant, except I’m 25 (almost 26) and the whole consequence-driven thought process there just really doesn’t sink in with me these days.

In December, after finally realizing that there wasn’t much else that I felt I HAD to do before becoming a parent, I gave my green light.

“Let’s just…try, and we’ll see what happens,” I said, to Jonathan’s surprise and excitement. Oh, how little I knew what was just around the bend.

Well, Christmas and then New Years weekends with my family come and go, and I am in the worst. mood. ever. As in, “Mom, if we don’t get out of this house and go buy chocolate or get pedicures or feed hobos or SOMETHING, I am going to KILL my husband, dammit!” That kind of mood.

I feel strange.

I don’t get what is going on with me – why am I so freaking psychotic right now? What is my problem? Am I crazy? When’s my period due?

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh.

It’s like…three days…late. Hmm.

Now, in my mind, I always thought I knew what that moment would be like. I felt like it would be so much better packaged for human consumption, my reaction. But after taking a pregnancy test during my lunch break on Tuesday, January the 5th, 2010, leaving it on the counter to run upstairs, and returning to find my husband staring strangely and shaking the test like it was an etch-a-sketch (Hello, Juno)…yeah, there’s no response you can really pre-package for that.

When Jon flipped the test around and the word “Pregnant” met my eyes, it was the least filtered, realest, most organic burst of emotion I’ve ever felt in my life. My wedding day can’t even compare (mostly because that day was, um, anticipated in a variety of ways, and also because I didn’t have an audience of 150 for the pregnancy test). While I can’t say for sure what happened in the first 30-60 seconds after I saw that word, Jon tells me it was a successive stream of hysterical laughter, sobbing, buckled knees, and more hysterical laughter, followed by a fit of stomping around the room, still laugh-crying and asking him “Are you serious? Are you serious? Are you serious?” Oh yes, I am sane.

Nothing in this world except love can prepare you for that moment. And a really good sense of humor. And that’s where this journey begins.

As I near the end of my first trimester, I feel like now is a really good time to start sharing my experience, if you’re willing to come along for the ride. It will be bumpy. It will be humorous. There will be extensive discussion of bodily functions. There will be no holds barred. If you’re into that sort of thing, well, I’d love to have you read with me – as baby makes 3. πŸ™‚

Love and Peace,
Becky

4 thoughts on “11 weeks, 4 days

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