Having known for a week.

Written on Friday, March 9th

This time last week, I didn’t know I was pregnant.

>If you missed that announcement, it was pretty fun in Trust Your Gut!  Vote for Suzy.<

(It’s about 5:30AM right now.)

I suppose I suspected the possibility.

But I definitely didn’t know.

In my opinion, pregnancy tests were good for one thing, and that was confirming that I was not, in fact, pregnant.

But I was missing “the signs” that usually lead up to my period.  Yeah, I might have dropped a comb or two, but I wasn’t droppING combs.

And all my other “signs” were MIA, too.

Knowing that our salon was going to leave for Chicago the next day, I thought it’d be wise to be sure that I wasn’t pregnant.  Our group always eats at the best Greek restaurant and we all enjoy a shot of ouzo at the end of our meal.  (Mmmm, so good.  Tastes like licorice and really settles the stomach.)

I texted Brian at 6:54AM, knowing that he would get that text as soon as work let out at UPS.

Me: I’ll try and hold my pee if you pick me up a test.

They recommend the first morning pee for those things.  He always thinks I’m pregnant, so when he got the text at 7:57AM, he was happy to oblige.

Brian: Ok will do

Listen.  This Square Piece goes pee first thing every morning.  First thing.  So I tried to keep myself busy and my mind occupied as I waited for Brian to come home.  I might have even gotten a blog post out.  By 8:30AM, I thought I was going to burst.  The paralyzing discomfort was so awful that I had taken myself back to bed in an attempt to be as still as possible.  Every move that I made was a painful reminder of exactly how much I had to pee.  Brian strolled in at 8:40AM.

He was talking to me, but all I remember hearing were my own thoughts screaming, “Get the box!  Bathroom!  Bathroom!  Hurry!”  I urgently grabbed the box of tests out of his hands on my way to the guest bathroom (our toilet was broken) and ripped into it as fast as my fingers would let me.

Brian’s been wanting a baby for a while, so he was pretty giddy that I had even the teeniest suspicion of a possible pregnancy.

Brian, “Can I watch?”

Me, “What?!  NoOoOoOo!”

Good grief.  He wants to watch me pee on the stick.  Sheesh.

In the past, when I’ve “confirmed that I wasn’t pregnant,” I always acknowledged that according to the directions, the second line – the pregnant line – could take some time to appear… a few minutes, perhaps.  Shoot, even if I’d leave those sticks on the counter allllll day, that second line would never come.

Not so on this day.

Pretty much, I was so pregnant that the second I peed on the stick, that second line was there to stare right back at me and tell me how much my life was about to change.  (I swear I was still midstream.)

Tears rushed to sting my eyes, but never to roll down my cheeks.

I.  Was.  Stunned.

Placing the test on the counter, I quietly began to pace back and forth as all the “do nots,” the “nevers,” the “no mores” and the evidence of vanity flashed through my mind.

Everything’s going to change.

No alcohol.

No coffee.

Oh my gosh.

Big tummy.

Now?

Will have to reach past my belly to do hair.

Summer clothes won’t fit.

Never be a size 2 again.

Everything’s going to change.

Oh my gosh.

Never sleep in again.

What are we going to do?

How will we afford to live here?

How much do I have to work to afford our bills?

Nausea’s coming.

Swelling.

Everything’s going to change.

Brian, not having a clue about the results or my mini freak out, tapped on the door, “Can I watch the colors change?”

I opened the door and flashed the stick before him.

Brian, “You’re pregnant?  You’re pregnant!  Wow…   Ha HA!  I was RIGHT!”  A silly grin has been planted on his face ever since.

I let Brian revel in his joy for about 15 seconds before I shook my finger at him.

Me, “Now you listen to me.  If.  You.  Tell.  ANYONE.  Before I’m ready…”  That’s when “pregnancy brain” kicked in and I couldn’t think of the rest of the sentence.

“I’m not sure what the consequence will be, but I know I’ll have a hard time forgetting it.”

We discussed who was the safest to tell immediately.  No family (family had to be face to face), no church (it could spread), no one who might blurt it on Facebook.

Brian, “I feel like I could do cartwheels down the street!”

He was elated; I was still stunned.  I’m a processor, a planner, a strategizer and a controller.  The unknown terrifies me.  (That’s why I found much comfort in “rejoice in hope” a few days later.)  It’s funny and wonderful how different we are.  In my attempt to get Brian to understand why I was not quite prepared to join him in all the cartwheeling down the street, I put it this way:

Me, “Have you ever seen me with a project?”

Brian, “But this isn’t a project!  It’s a baby!”

Me, “Exactly.  You think I’m going to take this less seriously than a Christmas tree?  Than Roman shades?!  You think I’m going to be more casual about this?”

Brian, “Oh.”

Being that he’s got a front row seat (and is typically my “volunteer from the audience”) to all of my obsessive projects, Brian finally understood why I felt so overwhelmed.  While he was simply and beautifully basking in the joy of new life, I was thinking about how much there was to do.

You see, while Brian and I were preparING to be ready for a family, I wouldn’t say that I personally felt preparED.

That day, Friday March 2nd, I did begin to feel queasy, though I think it was primarily due to nervousness.  For several days I was utterly in knots on the inside, while playing it cool on the outside.  Twice on our hair trip to Chicago, I had to act like getting patted down through security instead of going through the X-ray was random and coincidental.  When it came time to drink the shot of ouzo at our Greek restaurant, I just shrugged and said, “It’s Lent.”  Technically, it IS Lent.  Knowing that the girls at work define me as “religious,” I figured they’d draw natural conclusions from that statement, whether or not it made any sense.  Worked like a charm.

Though I’m freaking out, God knows what He’s doing.  And He has loving purposes to bring this little one into the world through the means of me.  While I don’t naturally rest in the uncertainty of the future, I do find that I can always rest in Him.  Every day I settle more and more into this newness.  I’ve never had a problem adapting to new circumstances; but I don’t just want to adapt, I want to nail this.  I want to be so good at being a mom that I make it look easy.  Oh, I wish there was ONE manual: How To Be Great At Being Parents, Never Screw Up, Make All the Right Decisions and Pay All Your Bills Without Ever Having To Do Anything But Focus On Your Baby.  Let me know if you spot that book.  In the meantime, I’m going to spend a lot of time on my knees… unless I get too big to do that.

New things:

• Since when has my bedtime been 9:00PM?  And that’s even with having had an afternoon nap!
• Every meal is a discovery of turn ons and turn offs.  Last night Brian made macaroni and cheese and chicken with onions and peppers.  I had one bite of chicken, one bite of a pepper and almost the entire box of mac-n-cheese.

As far as knowing how far along I am?  Oh, I know exactly how far along I am.  Let’s just say that we really enjoyed the Superbowl this year…  Had the Patriots won in the end, we might not be having this conversation today.  Go Giants!

So this is our fifth week, which means our baby is developing a heart beat.