A Surprise

I woke up feeling like something was off. Like I was off.

Maybe I should back it up just a little…

I remember the day before, being paralyzed by an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion sometime in the afternoon. Like I was powerless to move my body off the couch it was laid upon…even if I gave it my very best, my all. Thank goodness my wonderful husband allowed me to lay, and eventually nap for what felt like hours. He’s good about that…taking hints from my ques and entertaining Isla while I do whatever it is I need to be doing at that time (in this case, being a lazy ass and sleeping on our not super comfy great room couch). Anyway, I woke up at some point and there was talk about going to dinner. I wasn’t feeling great…my tummy was mildly upset. But, we rarely go out to dinner with the babe, so, I decided to suck it up because we were going to one of our favorite restaurants in Portland: Blue Olive NW. After a quick drive, we made it downtown and walked a few blocks from a parking garage to our little slice of Mediterranean heaven. Not before lots of talk of the weather though – it was COLD. But, we made it, jackets, boots, scarves and all. When ordering our food, the waiter asked if we were going to have anything to “drink”. You know, an alcoholic beverage of some kind. Usually, I would be all about it and like “YES, I’ll have a whiskey sour!” or “Definitely, can I get a vodka tonic?!?” But, tonight…I just politely said “No thanks…can I have a sprite?” Alberto, once again, followed my lead and asked for water. We enjoyed our dinner (as much as we could, since Isla wasn’t exactly an angel) and headed home. Mostly, that’s all I remember about that day…except, how I randomly though “I wonder if I feel so tired because, dare I say it, I am pregnant?” (I think I may have even texted a friend and asked if she had a pregnancy test - in hind sight, I shouldn't have done that). 

So...that brings me back to the 5^th. Something was off, and, because nothing about how things had been going in our life the days leading up to that were different, I thought we should get a pregnancy test and just see. You know, confirm one way or another that random thought I’d had in my head. So…I peed on the stick, waited the 3 minutes and then called Alberto downstairs to check it with me. I held Isla as the three of us stood in our master bathroom and I repeated over and over in my head “please say no, please say no”. But, at some point I must’ve said that aloud because Alberto looked and me and said “really?” and showed me the test. It was NOT negative, it was POSITIVE. Apparently, that paralyzing exhaustion I was experiencing the day before happened because my body was busy making a human! 

I AM PREGNANT. 

Shit, I thought. Shit. This is absolutely NOT what was on the agenda for right now. I JUST finished all the pre-req requirements to apply to nursing school. In fact, I was going to submit the damn applications in the coming week. SHIT! Then, the panic settled in and I just started bawling. Bawling because of the plans we’d been working towards, because it was a surprise that I was not prepared for…because I was scared. See, the holidays had just passed and I had been drinking. A LOT. I drank mimosas ALL DAY on Christmas. I had many drinks on many days between then and New Years Eve. I drank LOTS on that night, too. Hell, I woke up and drank on New Years Day. So, I bawled because I was scared I’d hurt my baby before I’d ever even known there was a baby. I bawled because I hadn’t been taking prenatal vitamins in preparation for becoming pregnant. I bawled because I was bawling after finding out I was pregnant, which, is such a gift from God. Alberto, on the other hand was happy. Excited. Positive, and…just happy. He’s wanted another child for quite some time now. Definitely before I knew I wanted another child.

Eventually, after the panic subsided and I moved on with the things I have to do on a daily basis (make dinner for Isla, try to find something for Al and I to eat, bathe/clothe Isla, etc.), I settled into the fact that I was pregnant and I said “fuck it” and decided that it wasn’t that bad. That I could do this. That I could go to nursing school and have an infant and a toddler and a husband and make it all work. Because, I’m awesome like that. Oh, and I’d recruit my mom to come back to live with us and she’d help too. It would be great! And so I stopped worrying and I decided to smile and relax…and take joy in the fact that we’d did it again. We’d made a baby from our love and that was something to be proud of and be joyful about.

PS - here's the proof...