Around the beginning of November, I started to feel very overwhelmed with everything. I felt tired all the time, I had absolutely no energy, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on the problem. I blamed it on the stress that comes with finding a new house and the inadequacies I was feeling at work, and daily life in general.
Then around the beginning of December I realized that I was late. My boobs had been sore for over a week and that’s when I began to suspect something was amiss. I waited all week long to see if anything changed, if Aunt Flow would grace me with her presence, then on Friday, December 6, I decided to just bite the bullet and take a test. I figured if anything, I could just rule out the possibility and I wouldn’t have to worry anymore.
I went to Walgreen’s, got a pack of First Response tests, and headed home. Nick and I had been invited to a friend’s house that night to watch movies and eat pizza. I knew there would be adult beverages at this get-together and we felt the responsible thing to do would be to find out beforehand.
When I saw those two little pink lines, my mouth fell open. Then I just started laughing. Not really a full belly laugh, more of an “oh my God is this really happening,” nervous laugh. Nick sank down the wall with his head in his hands. It was like a scene from a movie, except it wasn’t. It was real life.
I quickly pulled myself together, if only for Nick’s sake. I put on my pajamas for our pajama-pizza-movie hang out and we headed out the door. I don’t think either one of us thought about anything else for the rest of the night, or for the next few days. I went through waves of acceptance and then panic, and then back to acceptance. I think Nick just went through panic and sickness. Bless him.
The hardest part was keeping it all a secret. We knew we wanted to wait until we saw a doctor before spilling the beans to everyone, or at least until I was further along, just in case. Everything is so fragile in the first couple of weeks, you really just never know what will happen.
Once I was 8 weeks, we decided to tell our families. We told them all around Christmas and we were overwhelmed with their excitement and support. Everyone cried tears of joy. It was nice to finally relieve some of the pressure, but we still had two weeks to go before we could actually see the doctor and our baby.