So, I’m Pregnant. Why Am I Not Freaking Out More?
Am I still in a state of disbelief? Am I overwhelmed? Or am I scared that I won’t be able to carry the baby to term?
For the past week, I’ve occasionally clutched my lower abdomen, and held my breath for a few moments, waiting for the cramps to pass.
I’m growing. He or she is growing. My womb is working its magic. And practically overnight, I’ve added a new descriptor to my name: Mommy-to-be.
We learned on New Year’s Eve. I was due for my period the day before, and I’d been feeling extra moody and crampy, so my husband and I decided it was time for a pregnancy test.
To be clear, we literally just started trying that cycle. Which means I’m super fertile. Or he’s super fertile. Or fate had it out for us to be parents asap. I don’t know, all I’m happy for is that I didn’t go through a careless promiscuous period at any time of my life.
I could have been in serious trouble. Thank God I believed every word that sex ed told me. You know, the whole sperm crawls across the mattress and flies up your vagina and can get you pregnant even if you’re on your period spiel they tell teenagers to scare the wits outta them.
