Sunday, January 30, 2011

Spilling the Beans

I woke up the morning of my orientation after my first night in my dorm, and the the number one thing that came to my mind was Oh, shit. I'm pregnant. It was as if over night the baby had taken a vacation from my body and mind, and when it returned in the morning, I was shocked to have it there. Nothing had sunk in like I thought it had. It was like finding out for the first time all over again.

I went about getting ready for my orientation, every once in a while glimpsing the positive pregnancy test I had brought with me, like that was the only true proof I had that I wasn't delusional. For some reason, I kept it around until I finally decided that the second blue line was never going to disappear and I could definitely now classify myself as "pregnant". After 4 or 5 days, it was probably time to throw away the test. In retrospect, that was probably a good idea for at least sanitary reasons. I mean, how long is the FDA approved allotted time to carry around a stick partially covered in urine? I couldn't imagine it being long.

At orientation, I tried to soak in all the information that was being thrown at me while simultaneously thinking about being knocked up AND all the potential ruinous roads my life could take. But, mostly, I thought about my parents, how much I already missed them, and how I wanted to tell them my problem at that very moment, whichever moment it was that I was in; just walk out of the auditorium, lock myself in the bathroom, and call my mom. She'd answer and I'd say, "Momma, Momma...." That's all I'd come up with as of yet. For some reasons, "Congratulations, you're gonna be a grandma" just didn't seem like the path to go down.

Finally, it was lunch time. I let everyone pass me in the Cheeburger Cheeburger line while the phone rang to my Mom's office. After the preliminaries, the conversation kind of went like this:
"So... I'm nine days late for my period."
"Oh no."
"Yeah, I'm just warning you that I'm probably pregnant."
"Oh my gosh..."
"But when I take a pregnancy test, I'll let you know. My orientation is almost done. I still have to register for classes."
"Oh, okay. Love you. Call me back."
"Love you too."

I obviously hadn't told her the whole truth. For some reason, I felt it would be easier for her to take in sections.

I called back after orientation while I was walking back to my car and told her the verdict: I was indeed pregnant. I asked her to tell my dad. There was no way I could do it.

After they both knew, I already felt better. I felt like I could move on with the process now. But there was another snag: What about the rest of my family? Could we just not tell them? I could stay away for my whole pregnancy and just hand over the baby, come back home, and pretend nothing had ever happened. Was that realistic? Absolutely not. Especially since my resolve to give away my precious gift would melt in the coming weeks. But I still had time to think about it. Meanwhile, my big, new, world was calling my name, and, pregnant or not, I was going to explore.

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