To continue down the path of the hubby and my’s hilarious history and how we got to the crazy, chaos that is our life together now is to let you in on a small secret. Are you ready? I… got knocked up… before he put a ring on it (GASP!). Yes, friends. Premarital sex is what we had in our sinful apartment that we shared (GASP!). But, remember, it was love at first sight and we both just KNEW we were going to grow old together so co-habitating after only five months of dating (yet another GASP!) didn’t seem crazy to either of us… at the time. Now, fast forward about fifteen months and I was long-term, substitute teaching at a high school in Huntington Beach and future hubby was just making the switch from Bartender Trainer to corporate manager at his job. We were both really, really busy and broke as a joke. We were both in the midst of transitioning in our career paths and for us that meant low men on the totem poles. Believe it or not, I made killer money slinging booze. Apparently educating the future of our great country has less monetary value than keeping the masses tipsy, but I digress. So, we were busy and poor. I was so busy, in fact, I forgot to menstruate. I was a week or so late, but I was also very stressed out so I knew stress could be the culprit and it would happen soon, but just to be sure, I utilized the EPT that I remembered I had in the bathroom. I peed on it, I showered, I forgot about the test, I dressed, and left the apartment for work. As I pulled my car out of the garage it dawned on me that I left the pee stick in the bathroom. I didn’t want Future Hubby to see it and have a heart-attack so I ran back in to trash the evidence. When I quickly grabbed the pee stick and chucked it into the garbage I remember seeing a positive sign, but it didn’t really register in my brain for another five seconds or so, but when it did I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing. I stood in the hallway of our apartment frozen in disbelief. I grabbed the pee stick out of the trash and quickly ran out the front door. I threw it in the outside dumpster and immediately headed to buy a billion more test because I was certain that one was old and definitely defective. Because pregnancy tests expire, for sure, and that is what’s going on here, right?
My usual pit stop would be for coffee, but at this point I am wide-ass awake. No caffeine necessary here. My mind is on fire. I am mentally imploding, I would have bet my sister’s first born child that the pregnancy test would have been negative and I would go about my day. But nooooooooo, now I’m walking into a grocery store at 6:30 in the morning, buying pee sticks, wondering if I could successfully steal them just to avoid dealing with a cashier’s judginess. Three boxes should be enough; that’s six tests. Six seems like a number I can be certain about, right? So, I head to the check stand and see a line. A line! At 6:30 in the morning? Eff me. Now I’m standing in line, with three people in front of me, holding only pee sticks for purchase, wondering if I’m going to be someone’s mother. I put my stack of pee sticks on the conveyer belt and watch them inch towards the cashier who looks especially chipper this morning. The butterflies in my stomach are mostly for the results of my half dozen tests, but some of them are due to the interaction I’m most certainly going to have right now with Suzie Sunshine. As she scans the three boxes she looks at me with a huge smile and loudly says, “Oooooooh, are we hoping?!?!?!?” Me being me (if you know me) immediately wanted to rip her face off because there are other people listening, staring, judging and waiting to see what I will say… But all I could muster was “Shut up!?” Which came out more like an annoyed imperative than an exclamatory statement. What a dick, I thought. It’s none of her business and she needs to mind hers. I’m pretty sure she didn’t expect my response to be so annoyed, but seriously? Pregnancy is such a touchy subject to broach with complete strangers. I mean… I would NEVER ask a woman when she’s due or what she’s having unless she’s nine months pregnant and crowning! I’ve seen how that scenario pans out for people when the woman is NOT in fact pregnant and it’s catastrophic. So, hopefully she learned her lesson. Or I’m just an overly sensitive dramatic dick and she’s now more careful about who she decides to ask personal questions to… So I jump in my car and race to work, but on my way I call my sister. My sister is my sounding board and voice of reason and I need to tell someone that I’ve taken a positive pregnancy test and I’m about to take six more. And I know she’s awake because she also teaches. Did I mention she’s six months pregnant with her second child? Yeah… that too. When she picks up the phone it only took about three seconds for me to blurt out, “I think I’m pregnant!” Her response was pretty immediate and basically calm and happy. “What? Really?! Have you taken a test? Does Future Hubby know?” Her response calmed me. I don’t know why, but the fact that she wasn’t freaked out made me less freaked out. Then I realized how much I love Future Hubby and that I’m twenty six years old not eighteen and although this is a bit out of order as far as life events are concerned it’s still exciting, not catastrophic. It’s amazing how much my sister’s opinion and advice matters to me because that’s a rare reality in my life. I’ve never much cared what people thought or if they agreed with me and my choices. But thank God I called her because I’m going into this much calmer than I would have had she not answered the phone. I remember her mentioning that our children would be so close in age and how excited she was to be an auntie before we hung up the phone. It made me smile.
I drank a lot of water that day. I went to the bathroom between each class period and peed on a stick every trip and each time the results were the same. Positive. I am officially convinced I am a lady with a baby. Holy shit. Even though I’m currently long-term subbing at this school I had just (I mean like three days prior) signed my first teaching contract at another school. How about that. As if the first year of teaching isn’t difficult enough I’m going to be expecting my first child too. I’ll have to take maternity leave. I’ll have to be up in the middle of the night with an infant. I’ll have to grade ninety, five-page essays about the Puritan era while nursing a newborn babe. To say I was a bit overwhelmed just thinking about what’s to come is an understatement. Beyond all those distant worries… I have to tell Future Hubby. What’s he going to say? He’s just starting a new job that pays way less, but will serve as the launching pad for his career in the beverage industry. He’s going to be preoccupied with that. Is he going to be happy? Remember he’s the laid back one and I the uptight one so hopefully he stays true to form.
Future Hubby walks through the door around eight at night and I’m sitting on the couch watching the news. He tells me about his day and I listen or I at least appear to be listening as I’m really going over how I’m going to tell him he’s going to be someone’s daddy probably sooner than he wanted. When he finishes his daily happenings he asks how my day was… I tell him it was just another day of crazy sophomores. And then I say, “Hey babe… I think I’m going to stop drinking caffeine. If I stop drinking caffeine, would you stop with me?” He looks at me sideways knowing that I live on caffeine. If I could hook up an I.V. and main vein the coffee I totally would. Knowing that he’s only saying this to avoid any further explanation as to why I think he should do what I’m telling him to do he says, “Sure, babe.” Next I throw in, “…and alcohol. I’m going to abstain from alcohol too. You with me?” Now he’s listening because Future Hubby loves his beer and there’s no way I’m talking him into giving that up. “For how long?” he asks. “Well I was thinking for about ten months.” I said with wide eyes staring at him, hoping he made the connection between the time period I’m choosing to abstain from selected beverages and the gestational period for a baby. “Why?” he says. “Because I’m pregnant and I hear it’s bad for the baby to drink caffeine and alcohol while pregnant…” Silence abounds. He looks at me for an extended period of time without saying a word, as if he’s working it all out in his head. And being the over-thinker that I truly am I think he’s quiet because he’s not happy and that makes me want to talk more so I ask him more questions but give him absolutely no time to answer any one of them, “Did you hear me? Are you mad? What are you thinking? Can you say something?” All he says is, “You’re pregnant? It’s going to be a boy because there’s no girls in my family.” And after he said that we both smiled a bit. He didn’t seem to care that it’s not the “right” time for us to be having a baby. He was just taken aback that we were going to be parents. One of many instances where his response was so much calmer and simpler than mine. He did, however, head straight to the store for some beer, but that didn’t surprise me. He was celebrating the unexpected yet good news!
The hubby and I tend to do things ass-backwards. I’m pretty sure as individuals we both did things our own way and now united it’s no different. I remember telling my dad when I was a teenager that he would have to be okay with having grandchildren, but no son-in-law because I never thought it possible that I would settle down with someone and commit to for. ev. er. I get bored easily and I’ll be the first to admit I can be a dick, but as cliche as it sounds I canNOT imagine my life without my hubby. So cheers to getting knocked up by a super special guy that has NO game. And I will prove it when I tell the tale of his non-proposal and my extremely “dickish” response to it.
famousslimandmighty 