Twas Brillig

Psych! I’m not pregnant, at least not that I know of. Though you’ll be happy to know that I emailed this photo to my hubby at work, who knew that I’d be taking a pregnancy test today. I wrote, “just thought you should know…” and offered no further explanation. I was then going to email him back and tell him I was just kidding, but he called me first and, with total shock in his voice, said “congratulations…?” I felt really bad. The joke wasn’t supposed to go that far. Fortunately, he’s a really good sport (a MUCH better sport than I would have been!) and he hasn’t stopped laughing about it and telling his friends about it and so on.

So, why all the pregnancy tests?  Do I really think I could be pregnant?  (I suppose, at this point in this post, I should put in a TMI warning…)

I use the beautiful little miracle called Mirena (the popular IUD) to keep from becoming pregnant.  Mirena has served me well, in that she has mostly kept me from becoming pregnant, along with making it so that I don’t even have periods anymore.  Since the only thing in the world that I hate more than being pregnant is having my period, you could say that Mirena has been a good friend.

There was, however, that one time that I DID get pregnant with the Mirena.   About a year and a half ago, when Isaac was only about 8 months old, I discovered that I was pregnant.  Of course, I discovered it while I was in the process of miscarrying.  I wasn’t sad, I wasn’t hurt, I was furious.  I was so mad that I had gotten pregnant at all.  Not that I should have been terribly surprised.  After all, I also got pregnant on the pill once and also one time on the mini-pill while I was breastfeeding.

Hi.  My name is Fertile Mertile and I will be your baby factory this evening.

Abstinence may be my only sure-fire form of birth control.  Of course, YOU’LL have to be the one to suggest this idea to my husband, because I’m sure not going to…

Still, after that initial pregnancy/miscarriage weirdness, Mirena has, as I said, served me well.

But when you haven’t had a period in about a year and you suddenly start acting pregnant, it can really freak you out.  I mean, there’s no biological occurrence that tells you difinitively that you AREN’T pregnant.  So, what’s a girl to do?

Well, she buys a bundle of pregnancy tests.

What do I mean by “acting pregnant”?  Hmmm, well…  Let’s go through the list:

1.  I burst into tears for NO REASON AT ALL. Like, CONSTANTLY.  Seriously, I have no idea what this about because I’m just NOT a weepy person.  I’m the sort of person who has one good cry every six months or so and usually because something really devastating has happened.  But in the last week, I’ve probably bawled my brains out fifteen times.  Why?  I have NO idea.  Often, even in the midst of my crying, I think, “holy cow.  I don’t even feel sad.  Why am I crying?”

2.  To say that I’m easily irritated would be a huge understatement.  Again, this is not like me at all.  I’m very easy-going.  But not right now.  Just ask Brian, who suddenly wonders what happened to that nice lady he used to be married to.  I’m SO SNIPPY and rude and ready to FIGHT over nothing.  Not just with Brian, though he’s obviously the most likely target, but with the neighbors and the kids and the dog and even with inanimate objects, like the end table that I bonked my knee on.  Have you ever been FURIOUS at an end table?

3.  I’m SO TIRED.  Ugh.  I’m tired with that kind of debilitating tired that comes with pregnancy.  The only time in my life that I’ve felt this particular version of “tired” is when I’m pregnant.

4.  I’ve got “Placenta Brain.”  Any pregnant woman (and her partner) will tell you that pregnancy makes you stupid.  You forget words you’ve always known, you do things that are totally illogical, you forget appointments that you’d never miss otherwise.  Case in point (though this is just one in a long string of Placenta Brain moments):  On Friday, I dressed the boys in their Halloween costumes, baked cookies, picked Bubba up from Kindergarten, and RACED to my friend Amber’s house for her annual Halloween party— she lives in Arvada, which is north of Denver, and I’m in Highlands Ranch, which is the south metro area.  It’s a forty-five minute drive, Gentle Readers.   Anyway, I get to her house, carrying my cookies and herding my three boys in costumes, and I ring the doorbell.  No answer.  I ring the doorbell again.  Still no answer.  This goes on for 15 minutes.  Since we were late, we assumed that maybe they were inside playing a loud game.  So we snuck around the house, broke into her backyard, and started pounding on random windows.  Finally I decided it was time to leave, though I hated the thought of her not knowing that I’d TRIED to come to her party, and I hated the thought of driving all the way BACK to Highlands Ranch, having wasted all that time, energy, and gas!

Well, suddenly Amber pulls up to the house with her little boy.  Both are staring at me, wondering what on earth I’m doing.  By now, I’ve figured out that I’m an idiot.  She starts walking towards me, still not quite sure who I am, and I bellow, “the party’s not today, it’s next week, huh.”  And then I burst out laughing— like, Crazy Hysterical Lady laughing.  The shell-shocked, but always graceful Amber laughs right along with me and invites me in.  We end up playing at her house for a couple of hours.  It turned out to be a lovely time, but BOY did I feel like a MORON!!!  So, yeah.  I’m experiencing an onslaught of Placenta Brain.

5.  Stomach Flu.  Okay, everything else was in place, but suddenly on Friday evening, I get hit with the stomach flu in a big way.  And since Brian wasn’t puking too, it definitely wasn’t food poisoning.  Oh my gosh, thought I.  This HAS to be it.  I’m totally pregnant.

So I stayed home from church yesterday, and sat in bed, contemplating pregnancy.  It made me cry, because I’m totally overwhelmed at the possibility.  I mean, I love kids.  Like, a lot.  But let’s recap my life right now:

~I have 6 fish.  Okay, fine, it’s not that big of a deal.  Still, they’re mouths to feed and creatures that need to be cared for.

~Our puppy.  Max is like a baby, except that he’s mobile and he chews on stuff and doesn’t wear a diaper.  He needs round-the-clock attention.  Yes, even in the middle of the night.  Who knew puppies were so much work?  I definitely didn’t know!

~A husband who is still on the brink of losing his job.  Nuff said.

~One brilliant and delightful princess, practically perfect in every way, but who brings home lots of homework.  This morning, for instance, we got up at the crack of dawn to finish working on her time capsule.

~One rambuctious kindergartner with lots of energy and a very, very loud voice.  He can make such loud sound-effects that you actually begin to BELIEVE that there’s a train in your kitchen.

~One big fat stinker of a preschooler.  Oh sure, he’s as adorable as they come, but MAN is he a stinker!  The boy has a knack for destruction!

~One toddler.  That would be enough to handle anyway, but throw in that he’s a “special needs” toddler and it takes you to a whole different realm of toddlerhood.

Okay, see what I’m saying?  I CANNOT HANDLE ANYTHING MORE!  I’ve hit a wall, my breaking point.  So, as I’m currently prone to do, I just sat and bawled over the thought of being pregnant on top of all of this.

But, the little pee tests say that I’m not.  Relieved, yeah.  Bewildered, definitely.  Worried, a touch.  Sad, maybe slightly.

Wow, this post got long.  (And whiney.  Really, really whiney.)  Still, since you only hear from me about once a week lately, I guess I’m allowed to be long-winded, right?

Off I go, then.  It’s nap time.  At least, I pray that it’s nap time!  But before I go, let’s play a fun game and see just how many people only look at the picture I posted and don’t read the actual post and say, “congratulations!” in the comments.  Hahaha.  Seriously.  You know SOMEONE’S going to do it!