I peed on the stick while he was at work. This was a horrible idea…because when there turned out to be two pink lines rather than just one, I panicked. I peed on another one in hopes that maybe the first one was a false negative. It came back with two lines. I peed on a third one. And again…two lines. I called him at work, bawling.
“I’m think I’m pregnant.”
“Did you take a pregnancy test?”
“Yes. Three of them.”
“Well…what did they say?”
“That I’m pregnant.”
“Sweetie…you’re pregnant and we’re going to have a baby.”
I was terrified. So many thoughts went through my head.
- Does he really want kids?
- Do I really want kids?
- How is this going to change my life?
At this point, we had been dating for 4 years. We owned multiple vehicles together. We owned pets. We owned our house. We knew exactly when it happened because we hadn’t exactly prevented ourselves from getting pregnant.
However, the biggest fear for me came from the idea that we weren’t married. We had been playing house together. We had talked marriage before and loved each other, but we weren’t there yet.
Two things came to mind:
- I didn’t have health insurance. I had this little baby growing inside me now and no way to take care of the billion medical appointments I was about to have.
- My parents were going to be pissed.
He had lackluster responses to both things on my mind. 1) It’s simple, we’ll just get married. 2) No they won’t. Stop panicking. Umm… not exactly what I was hoping for from him.
I’ll tell the full story at another time of my wedding…but the short story is 15 days later I was married. And yes…I got the health insurance that I needed.
I was terrified my parents were going to be pissed. I was 26 years old in a stable relationship with someone I loved and someone that loved me back and that I had a 30-year mortgage with. But I was convinced that they would be mad. Disappointed.
For my entire childhood all I can remember is hearing the same thing over and over again. You don’t have sex until you’re married. You have to do things in a certain order: college, engagement, marriage, house, kids. When one of my friends got pregnant during our junior year of high school, I remember the comments about how disappointing it would be.
At 26 I was worried about disappointing my parents about something that should have been one of the most exciting moments of my life. Talk about a situation that makes you doubt all of the questions I had made in my life up to this point. Accept for that marriage part…I had everything else “checked off the list”. Was I even capable of being a good mom?
How about having a different narrative? How about saying I would like you to make the choices that you are comfortable with? Or, I understand if things don’t go as planned, but we’ll love you anyways. Or, I hope you fall in love and feel what I’m feel for your dad. Or, you are a strong person and and I trust you you to follow your own path.
Rather than trusting my ability to be a good person and to be a good mom, I worried that I was a disappointment and going to fail those around me…including my baby.
Fast forward over a decade later. Now that little baby is no longer the size of a pumpkin seed in my stomach, but a smart, beautiful, tall, 11-year-old athlete. As I watch her begin the physical and emotional changes that she is going through, I can’t help but wonder if I can give her the confidence and the trust that I wish someone had given me when I was younger.