BFP, or "Why I'm Blogging This Time"

Let's do the Time Warp, back about 6 years. At Offutt AFB in Aromaha, NE, I made an appointment with my doctor and announced that I wanted to start Birth Control Pills (henceforth referred to as BCP). He informed me that, basically, if I wasn't a filthy whore, I wouldn't NEED BCP. I told him to stop judging me and just give me the damn pills. Being a good Catholic, he refused, and gave me to some nutha doctor, who wrote the Rx with hardly a comment or judgmental glare.

OK, now fast forward about 5 years (we're now hanging out in mid-2009). This is when I stopped taking BCP because my then-current (but now ex-) husband got out of the AF and I stopped getting meds for free. I always planned on renewing the Rx but I never got around to it, and when we got divorced, I didn't see much point in it since I wasn't going to make whoopie with anyone anyway.

For 5 years, my period had always been exactly on time; seriously, I could have set my watch to it. As the weeks progressed without the BCP, my period remained mostly the same, with a little variance happening. I think it probably was late by like 3 hours every month. So after a few months, I no longer got it on a Tuesday afternoon, I got it on a Wednesday morning, and so on and so forth. But basically, it was still very reliable, very consistent, and never ever really LATE.

Until last week.

There was no worry at first. There was an irritation at being inconvenienced (this is going to blow my whole weekend), but no worry. When Wednesday evening came and went and still no Aunt Flo, I thought that maybe, just to ease my mind, I should go get a pregnancy test. Because I had been having the secks (**insert inappropriate hand gesture here**) and that option wasn't completely out of the question.

I decided to give myself one more day. If it doesn't show up by Thursday after work, I decided, I will whiz on a stick. And it didn't, so I ran by a Walgreens and freaked out the 17-year-old cashier boy with my purchase (in hindsight I should have gotten a bunch of weird stuff, but I was tired and hardly feeling creative). I went home, did my thing, capped the test, and went to make myself dinner. I wasn't worried. After all, there was *no way* it was going to be positive. I was just doing it to quash the nagging worry in the back of my mind that I was indeed knocked up. Seeing a negative would surely ease my mind, I thought, and then when my period showed up the next day, I would feel sooo silly. After all, I'd been experiencing all my normal signs of "that time of the month:" general meanness toward people (not severe enough to be called bitchiness, but definitely more mean thoughts than usual), an almost overwhelming hankerin' for chocolate, sore tatas, and even a little bit of spotting. PMS to the max. Not pregnant. Nope. No way.



You've got to be kidding me.

Those were the words that came out when I beheld my two lines. I stared at it for a good five minutes, and then I threw it away. I went on with my night for about half an hour, and then I hopped on the Googlemachine and quietly looked up everything about pregnancy that I never cared to know.

The next morning (Friday now, 9:31 AM), I texted Jake. The conversation started normally enough:

Me: Good morning hun. How was last night?
Him: Good morning sweetheart! It was fun. I got home around 1 am.
Me: You're not too hungover for skiing are you?!
Him: No. I only had 1 beer.
Me: That's good. Can I call you?
Him: Lemme get my shit together. I'll call you when I'm headed to meet Dave.
Me: Ok.

He called me not long after this exchange. We kinda chatted about random stuff as I tried to think of exactly how to break the news. I knew I needed to tell him, but I didn't know how. Finally, I said something to this effect:

Me: "How long until you pick up Dave?"
Him: "I don't know. Like 10 minutes maybe. Why?"
Me: "Ok, well I have to tell you something, and I want to do it before you get there so if you want to talk about it, we can."
Him: "..........Ok."
Me: **long pause**
Him: "Spit it out!"
Me: "I'm pregnant."
Him: **long pause** "Are you being serious?"
Me: "Yes."
Him: "That's awesome."

And then I almost started to cry but I kept it under control. Go me. I can't really remember what we talked about past that, since I was just happy that he hadn't screamed and hung up the phone. Incidentally, a couple days later he said, "How mad would you have been if I had like screamed and hung up? I think it would have been funny!" When I informed him that it would NOT have been funny (at least not to me at that time) he responded, "What? I would have called you right back. Think about what a great story that would be for the kid!"

I love my baby daddy. :)