Note: If you are uncomfortable reading about someone’s uncertainly/concerns regarding being knocked up, please disregard!

Also, I haven’t the faintest idea why the following rambling, personal processing would be mainpaged, but please don’t do that. That would be terrible.

So, let’s dive in!

My partner and I have been together for 4 years, and living together for nearly as long with his young son. We have used many methods of birth control responsibly, but have gotten pregnant before despite it. Fairly recently, I began experiencing all of the telltale signs of early pregnancy. At first, we were a bit shocked and dismayed that birth control had failed again, but soon after we began getting excited and discussing baby names and the like. Less than a week later, I began spotting, and it was confirmed that I was having an early miscarriage. We were disappointed, and one of the ways in which we dealt with our sorrow was to discuss how now was not the “right time” for us to have a child anyway. Unfortunately, in hindsight, it was a rather convincing discussion.

Why is it not the right time, you ask (humor me, guys)? I’ve mentioned it here before without going into much depth, but I am in the process of shifting my specialization within my field. This re-focusing would essentially allow me to do what I’ve always wanted to do with my career. Additionally, delving into this part of my field requires a fair bit of deployment/travel into tumultuous and unstable situations which are typically not the best ever for a pregnant lady or someone with a newborn. And, honestly, as trite as it sounds regarding an unplanned pregnancy, this just wasn’t in my plans right now.

Anyway, I found out a few days ago that I am pregnant. Thanks, various forms of birth control! Really, you’ve done a stand-up job and your efficacy is a thing of legends.

So, ultimately, I am now a young woman who has a somewhat high-risk and time-consuming career opportunity and is also suddenly harboring a fugitive in her womb. A fugitive whom I’m sure I will love unconditionally and will change my life and myself in a number of positive ways and all that meaningful stuff. But, for now, I am not a pregnant lady smiling in fields of flowers and am instead looking more like that nauseous weirdo in the corner who is cycling between smiling off into the distance and breaking into random fits of crying. These hormones are something.

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I have my first prenatal appointment late next week to make sure everything is progressing as it should. In addition to my career concerns, there are all the typical, clichéd worries that come with pregnancy: financial concerns, relationship concerns, medical/body concerns, selfish concerns, etc.

You know, people always do that nudge-nudge, “Why do you think you have 9 whole months? You’ll be ready by then!” Because I am only 6 weeks along and my previous pregnancy ended in a miscarriage around this time, the only people who know are my partner and my closest friend. While my friend is trying to be encouraging and comforting, her reassurances are coming across as placating platitudes that don’t really quash the doubts I’m having. Meanwhile, though my partner is saying all the right things, he has that thousand-yard stare going on and has been somewhat distant and freaking out about money since we found out. All in all, I’m kind of freaking the fuck out myself.

I'm worried about all the things. I'm worried about having another miscarriage; I'm worried that I screwed up the developing fetus because I drank quite a bit on Sunday before I found out and had been using an electronic cigarette which is largely not researched; I'm worried that I won't be me anymore when I have a baby and that I won't be able to pursue my ambitions; I'm worried that our relationship won't be able to withstand a life with poop, throw-up, and lack of sleep; I'm worried that we won't ever be able to take impulsive trips or go barhopping or to a fancy dinner again just because we feel like it; I'm worried that I'm too focused on my career to be a good mom; I'm worried that my puppy is going to be jealous, because apparently I'm at the point of projecting human feelings onto dogs; I'm worried about what will happen to my body; I'm worried that I don't know anything about pregnancy or newborns.

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Anyway, I'm fairly certain that these concerns are common and I am therefore not eligible to award myself special snowflake status, but perhaps someone can help me chill out a little bit. I know that part of it is taking things as they come and figuring things out as issues arise. Clearly, I am all about counting chickens before they hatch and what not, but I am insanely overwhelmed at the moment.

And here, as a reward for reading or skimming, is my reaction in gif-form to my positive pregnancy test:

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Fucking emotional rollercoaster.