Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Let's get this (baby) party started!

Seeing as this is primarily a blog about parenthood, I should probably discuss aspects on how we got to this point. My husband and I got married October of 2010. A guest at our wedding asked him when we were planning on having a child and he responded "Not for a couple years". Well, I had different plans I suppose. I had the itch. Not the nasty one that you may think, but the baby fever itch. I informed him he had 3 options and it was his choice. I wanted either a puppy, a guinea pig or a baby. He said guinea pigs were stupid and was ambivalent about a dog, which left one choice. We weren't really trying for a baby, but in no way were we preventing it (oh yeahhh).

Fast forward 5 months after our wedding. I was going on a weekend bender with my college roommates. I had been experiencing some soreness in my boobs (oh man, it's getting real now). I had confided in one of the girls, Potter, who said she had a test to see if I was pregnant. She was going to punch me in the boob and if it hurt, I was pregnant. So she punched me and it didn't hurt, so Dr. Potter said I was fine. I told her I should probably take a test just in case so she said in the morning we'd go to town and get one.

Well, the town we were in makes Bumfuck nowhere seem like a metropolis. I had to pee real bad and we took off towards town to the 1 mini store they had. I was running around the store looking as discrete as possible for someone who hasn't peed in 12 hours, but couldn't find the damn things. The only employee available was a 16 year old manchild. I didn't want to ask him but I didn't want to piss myself either. I asked him where the pregnancy tests were and he pointed to the front locked display cabinet. You know, the ones reserved for Class A Narcotics, ammo and apparently the shittiest pregnany tests on the market. While paying for the test, I made sure to tell the manchild that I was married, to wipe the look of disgust off his face. But in retrospect, I think that's just the way his face was.

So in a bathroom, at a  mini-mart, in the middle of nowhere, I did my thing and waited. 2.5 minutes later, I had my answer. I couldn't keep our house plant alive and my husband can't grow a non-patchy beard, but now, we were growing a baby.


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