The Irony & The Ecstacy
February 03, 2005
Okay, okay. Now that y'all know the Great Untellable News That Dare Not Speak Its Name, let me rewind and give you a full timeline of all the shit I couldn't blog about before.
MONDAY, PERIOD WATCH 2005 BEGINS
I decide to take a hiatus, because I'm busy at work. But also because I'm tired, soooo tired, and crying over EVERY BLOOMING LITTLE THING. Runs in my stockings, whiskers on kittens, other people's pregnancies and the dread that only comes when you're preparing to go back on Clomid, the fertility pill of Satan.
THURSDAY, DAY 1 OF PHANTOM PREGNANCY
I post a conversation in which I bitch to Zoot about not being pregnant and that the stress of life has screwed up my insides and making my period 21 hours late and waaaaaaaaaaah. A button pops off my pants. Goddamn it.
FRIDAY, DAY 3 OF PHANTOM PREGNANCY
We go out for dinner and I am a bitter, bitter date. The entire world is against me. I am fat and unlovable but everyone should love me because waaaaaah. Jason orders steak tartare. Amy bolts for the restroom. Jason mentions that maybe, just maybe, I should think about taking a pregnancy test.
"Bah!" I say. "I'm so not getting suckered in again. I'm just fat and cranky and now possibly getting the stomach flu."
"Whatever." Jason says.
SATURDAY, DAY 4 OF PHANTOM PREGANCY
It snowed, so it seemed like a good time to go stock up on the bad weather essentials: light bulbs, milk, wine and pregnancy tests.
I took the first test and got two lines. And I freaked out for exactly 15 seconds. And then I realized that I'd accidentally bought the digital kind, so you aren't supposed to look at the lines, you're supposed to plug the pee stick part into a digital reader thing and wait for the LCD display to tell you your results.
(You know how on TV when someone gets a positive test another character always asks, "Are you sure you took the test correctly?" And then the woman always goes, "I think I know how to pee on a stick, moron?" Yeah. Apparently, I don't.)
Anyway. Many curse words were said. Innocent pee sticks were hurled against walls. Stomping of feet, pouting of lip, etc.
Luckily, I had to pee again like, 20 minutes later. This time? Positive. The overly-complicated test was quite sure.
"JAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOONNNN!" I shrieked in a voice that was not quite human. "IT SAYS I'M PREGNANT."
We stared at the stick in disbelief for a few minutes. Jason commented that we'd just bought a lot of wine that I wouldn't be able to drink. I think I cried. Some more.
Just to be sure, I took the last remaining test an hour later.
To: Miss Zoot
Subject: Jesus Lord God in a Blanket
I have taken three pregnancy tests today.
They all said I'm pregnant.
I am freaking the fuck shit ass out, because this can't be right.
WHY did I decide to wait until the weekend to test? I am going to be a wreck by Monday. A. Wreck.
From: Miss Zoot
Subject: Re: Jesus Lord God in a Blanket
Holy Crap. You're totally pregnant. You realize that dont you? I mean - you can actually say the words "I'm pregnant" and they are TOTALLY TRUE. Because - that many tests? CAN NOT BE WRONG.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Now. The blood test numbers will tell you if your body is happy about being pregnant or not - but jesus - it doesnt matter because YOU'RE TOTALLY FUCKING PREGNANT.
SUNDAY, DAY 1 OF ACTUAL REAL-LIFE PREGNACY
To: Miss Zoot
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: (etc.) Jesus Lord God in a Blanket
OH MY GOD I JUST WENT OUT FOR LUNCH AND FELL DOWN THE STAIRS ON THE WAY TO MY 300TH TRIP TO THE BATHROOM.
I. Fell. Down. The. Stairs. All Scarlett O'Hara like. And when the hostess came running towards me I started shrieking at her that I'M PREGNANT AND CANNOT FALL DOWN STAIRS.
And then I started crying. And everybody backed away from me in terror.
Ok, it wasn't a full flight of stairs or anything...I slipped on one stair and smacked the middle of my back on it. Still. AS IF I DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH TO FREAK OUT ABOUT. I am not getting out of bed for the rest of my life.
Later, I tried and tried to think of a funny way to write about my fall that left out the pregnancy bit, but I couldn't. Every fictionalized version of the event ended up including alcohol, and that felt WRONG, like the word would jump off my screen and into my bloodstream and pickle my tiny embryo.
This was also the first time I said the words "I'm pregnant" out loud to anyone, and I still felt like I was lying for the sake of dramatics.
MONDAY, DAY 2 OF ACTUAL REAL-LIFE PREGNANCY
I called my doctor's office, and they were...calm. Not hysterical at all. And even more unbelievable, they apparently BELIEVED the pee stick results completely.
Amy: I took three tests this week and they were all positive so do I need a blood test and I need my beta checked and oh my God oh my God.
Them: Okay, come in on Friday for your first prenatal visit.
Amy: Pre...natal? You mean I'm actually pregnant?
Them: Don't forget your insurance card, freak.
I went to the grocery store for lunch and hit the salad bar, mentally checking off all the folic acid/calcium/iron-rich foods as I made the healthiest lunch I think I have ever eaten, topped off with bottled water, milk and orange juice.
And I also picked up a different brand of pregnancy test, which I took in the restroom, AT WORK, while humming "This Is Where It Ends" by the Barenaked Ladies.
To: Miss Doxie
Subject: Re: The Thing We Talked About Last November But Never Changed The Subject Line On Any Email Since
I took another test today, in the bathroom, here at work, because I'm insane. But even more insane because I wrapped the (positive!) test up in toilet paper and put it in my purse. Because one day I may show my child how much I loved them from the start that I peed on a stick at work for them.
Maybe their first boyfriend or girlfriend would like to see it too!
TUESDAY, DAY 3 OF ACTUAL REAL-LIFE PREGNANCY
At this point, I was beginning to suspect that I may be pregnant. And it just HAPPENED. By ACCIDENT. Like we were unwed crack whore teenagers.
Thanks to the Inneret, I'd learned that my due date was September 28th and that I had a really long way to go before I made it safely out of the first trimester. Which meant no posting about it. Which turned into...no posting at all. As Mirella would later say, "I imagine it will be hard to blog when you can't blog about the one. Thing. Consuming. Your LIFE."
FRIDAY, THE DAY OF THE DOCTOR
Jason came with me, which was awww, except that it was too early to be a fun appointment, and all he ended up witnessing was a pelvic exam, from which I'm not sure he's fully recovered.
Doctor: La la, you're fine, Tadpole is fine, see you in four weeks, get a sonogram in two, please accept this cheap photocopied booklet of clipart and stuff as your complete guide to pregnancy.
Amy: So when does it all go horribly wrong?
Amy: When does the bad news start? The bleeding, the blighted ovum, the tubal pregnancy?
Doctor: So I take it you spend a lot of time on the Internet?
AND...FAST-FORWARD TO TODAY, BECAUSE ENOUGH ALREADY
So hi. I'm pregnant. It's still really, really early and y'all are lucky that you know about it all, because the original plan was to keep it quiet for another SIX WEEKS. But then the news kind of got away from me, as one of the rarely-mentioned symptoms of early pregnancy is that the words "I'M PREGNANT" start popping out of your mouth at every occasion.
Cashier at Grocery Store: Can I get a price check on oranges?
Amy: I'm pregnant!
Cashier at Grocery Store: Um, okay. Do you have a bonus card?
I tried to keep it quiet at work though, I really did. But it just didn't work out that way and I ended up telling my boss yesterday, so clearly, what's the point in the silence?
I'm only six weeks pregnant. A hell of a lot can go wrong in the next month or so. I really hope it doesn't. I also hope if you're a coworker, you can keep this quiet, and by that I mean please do not tell another non-Amalah-reading soul.
(I'm not sure I've ever typed a more pointless sentence, but you know, it makes me feel better to go through the motions.)
Anyway! My boobs hurt! I pee a lot! No, really, a lot! I get queasy at night! Heartburn! Constipation! By the late afternoon I'm retaining so much water my belly looks four months pregnant! None of my pants fit! And I really wasn't expecting pregnancy to be this gassy!
But after two years of nothing? It's so wonderful -- no, mind-blowingly fucking AMAZING -- to finally have something.
Even if it is just a wee tadpole who gives you gas.