Saturday, January 7, 2012

What a Difference a Year Makes

I thought I'd get this down before my brain fails me and I forget the details...

One year and one month ago I went home early from work because I was sure I had a stomach virus.  Yes, I was that dumb girl.  As I was gathering things up to go home, the girl in the cubicle next to me yelled out, "You know you're pregnant, right?"  I laughed her off and went home and to sleep almost immediately.  The next morning I had to stop by Walmart for a few things on my way to work, and found that her comment was kind of haunting me.  So, because I was THAT sure that I was not in fact with child, I decided to grab a test, too.  And then, you know, I needed to use the restroom anyway, so I thought, well, why not, at least it will get that one off my mind.  The little pink plus popped up instantaneously.

People, this only proves that I acquired the "dumb pregnant brain" at the moment of conception.  I couldn't decide what I was more freaked out by: the fact that I was pregnant, or the fact that I found out that I was pregnant in a Walmart bathroom. 

Then I went to work.  (See above statement regarding dumbness).

Finally, around three I couldn't take it any more, and went home to tell Sam.  I bought a few tests on my way home and we ended up both arriving home at about the same time.  He looked obviously confused that I was home so early, and all I could get out was "We need to take a test... do you want it tell you in words or lines?" 

"Words, definitely words"

Again, the result was instantaneous. 

After that we both sat on the couch in dead silence about a foot apart for a good five minutes.   Finally I looked at Sam and said, "You've got to say something, because I am freaking out."

"I mean, I'm just thinking cribs... wood tone or white, I mean, I just don't know."

Clearly some of us are more prepared for life than others.

You see, we were going to plan this.  I was supposed to have time to warm up to the idea, and do research and you know, wrap my mind around everything.  Now, no time!  But we just kept putting one foot in front of the other.  And having a few nervous breakdowns, and maybe one extreme laundry-related fighting incident. 

But, luckily 9 months is a pretty long time.  Turns out, enough time to warm up to the idea, and research, and you know wrap my head around most things.

And now, well, what a difference a year makes.

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