We are leaving for Coronado tomorrow. I am literally dreaming of white wine and margaritas on the sun deck at the Del. I look forward to our week at the Hotel Del like a little kid looks forward to Christmas. All that's left is to get my hair cut and pack the car.... While I am getting my hair cut, the hairdresser is talking about her kids and how they grew up so fast. I start to cry... I am not a crier. NOT AT ALL. My crying concerns me. I get in the car and feel sick to my stomach, like I am hung over. I am not. I scramble to find the calendar on my Blackberry. It does me no good. Since I was 100% sure Mike and I were done having children, I don't keep track of cycles or anything like that. I start to panic.
I get home, Mike has a margarita waiting. I take a sip and tell him about the hairdresser. I start to cry again. My mind then starts playing weird tricks on me and I all the sudden tell him how great it would be to have 3 kids. I paint a pretty Norman Rockwell like picture setting of the 5 of us skipping through fields and scrapbooking together. I start to cry again. I know I am pregnant. I don't need a test to prove it, I just talked about scrapbooking and skipping. I put the margarita down and head to CVS.
If you have ever purchased a pregnancy test, did you feel ashamed doing it? I did. I don’t know why. I am almost 30, have 2 kids, own a business, any kid would be lucky to have me as a mom! But there I am at CVS, trying to hide the fact that I am buying an EPT by also buying 4 magazines and some Nerds. The clerk doesn’t say much but probably feels sorry for me.
Test is positive, not even any hesitation on the positive part. Before the pee hits the stick I swear there is a plus sign. I start to hyperventilate. Mike looks like I just told him I crashed the S4 (Which I am sure won’t fit in with our new supersized family). This sucks. I am not going to lie. We didn’t want this. We were taking precautions against it. We were the perfect even numbered family. I don’t like odd numbers, I don’t like being pregnant. All I want is to drink Cakebread white wine and sing along to the band in Coronado. I don’t want to be sick, I don’t want to get huge. I just had my boobs done, what a waste of money, Erin and I were starting a work out plan, I had plans to learn how to ski this winter… (Yes, these are the thoughts that are going through my head at that moment. I know they seem shallow, but hey, I am in shock)
Mike recovers and now seems excited. I almost want to kill him. He thinks 3 kids is a great idea. He doesn’t have to carry it around for the next 9 months, or birth it. For him it is another chance for me to birth the next Eli Manning. I am still in shock. I tell him this. He smiles and tells me it is going to be just fine. Hope so….