HOLY SHIT. I. AM. PREGNANT.
HOLY SHIT. Okay, that’s the first thing I need to watch out for: language. Or rather, skipping certain words. But that was the first thing I thought: HOLY SHIT. We’d see—it wasn’t that urgent. Still, it was well thought out and more than welcome!
It worked the very first time—the VERY FIRST time. I call it a miracle. I realize that it’s not a given for everyone… Maybe that’s what makes it even more exciting.
Uncertainty, guilt. Aren’t we a little too lucky?
Quickly taking a pregnancy test first thing in the morning before Bart comes back from walking our dog Tinus—our first “baby” up to that point. Pot, pee, test, wait… A line (pregnant). A LINE. OK, A LINE. Luckily, I bought the value pack, so there were two tests in it. One more time. Pot, pee, test, wait… a line. A LINE. A VERY CLEAR LINE.
A mild panic attack. Actually, it doesn’t really take me by surprise. It feels warm, welcoming, and almost like I have butterflies in my stomach. So that explains why I haven’t been feeling quite myself these past two weeks. I wondered for a moment if I was just too busy—too much stress? Headaches, stomachaches, short of breath, dizzy, tired, really tired… Going to bed as early as 9:00 p.m., after already taking a power nap at 6:00 p.m. So it wasn’t me after all, but that little one in my belly.
I hurry downstairs. Act natural, Britt—you can do this. Bart and I have breakfast together in the kitchen. My heart rate is pretty high, according to my FitBit. Especially when Bart asks me when my period is due again. “The day after tomorrow,” I lie. Secretly, I record a video of the two tests in my hand. I think I’ll need that to convince Bart that it’s real.
At work, the day just flies by. I’m on cloud nine, totally happy. At the same time, the first worries are starting to creep in (Welcome! This is the life of a parent, I can hear you thinking.). What are the next steps? Is the little one healthy? How are Bart and I going to handle this? I’ve been to the bathroom at least 20 times (I’m also dealing with that pregnancy ailment) just to watch the video. So I didn’t need the video to convince Bart—I needed it to convince myself.
Still in disbelief—it’s too good to be true.
4:30 p.m. I quickly wrap up at work. Since I still can’t believe it after two positive tests, I race to the supermarket to get two more. Even an expensive one! Hey, I want to be absolutely sure. Cup, pee, test, wait… PREGNANT. Shit is real.
I really want to tell Bart about this. A few months ago, I’d already bought a “Dad” and “Mom” mug. Time to put them to use! I start cooking and send Bart a text asking if he’d like to call me when he’s on his way. Almost. Same story, different day. By the time Bart arrives, I’ve finished cooking. I quickly ask if Bart wants something to drink (SAY YES! SAY YES! SAY YES!). “Yes, please.” I set down the mugs filled with water. Bart is so busy that it takes him a moment to realize what’s going on. “NOOOOOOOO,” I hear him scream. “Yes, Bart, yes.” I took first-aid training last week, and thank goodness I did, because I had a feeling my CPR course might come in handy. Deathly pale, half-hyperventilating, eyes wide with disbelief. So that’s what fatherhood does to you—good to know.
Love,
Britt
www.minne-mine.nl
