I've decided to start this blog as a diary of sorts.
Eventually, I did take a pregnancy test. And as I'm sure you've guessed, that test turned out positive. And here I am at 23 weeks and counting and I'm still knocked up.
You see, I'm really just a normal, average individual in a very subjective sorta way. I'm in my early thirties. I live in Pittsburgh, PA. I have a wonderful husband and a lovable, neurotic dog. I work in contracts and project management for a small start-up in the biotech industry. I love to read. I dabble in writing. I don't usually write in fragmented sentences.
However...
In late summer of this past year, my normal, average, everyday life got thrown for a loop. A big one.
It was a Saturday morning and we'd just finished up a big golf tournament that my husband and I organize every year in honor of a dear friend of ours. We'd worked long and hard on getting donations for skill prizes, organizing the foursomes, working with the golf course, and making sure everyone had a good time. After all the weekend festivities, I was finding it hard to roll myself out of bed to do anything. My eyes were heavy, my limbs didn't want to get with the program, and I slept pretty much the entire day after a proper 8 hours of sleep the night before.
I'm generally not a napper. I'm pretty energetic and I try to make the most of my weekends before the work week starts again on Mondays. I just chalked it up to having a pretty tiring week and decided that everyone needed a day of rest now and then. But then Sunday came around. I did manage to get out of bed, but only as far as the couch. I didn't feel sick or icky in any way, just extremely fatigued.
My husband said jokingly, 'Maybe you should take a pregnancy test.'
To which I replied, "Ha. Maybe you should make me lunch."
[I should probably interject at this point in the story that three years ago, my husband and I started trying to have a baby. We'd tried for a year without luck and my doctor sent me to the lab for a slew of blood tests just to check on a few things. Well, that lab visit and the many vials of blood that they wanted to pull from my veins provoked a series of medical events. The abridged version: I passed out at the lab (not the first time), had a seizure (not the first time), had to see a neurologist (not the first time), had my license suspended for 18 long months (that was a first and it sucked), during which time I was wrongly diagnosed with epilepsy (not the first time), correctly re-diagnosed with vasovagal syncope, and then I got a pacemaker. So needless to say, because of all this hoopla, our plans for starting a family were put on hold for a long time.]
Eventually, I did take a pregnancy test. And as I'm sure you've guessed, that test turned out positive. And here I am at 23 weeks and counting and I'm still knocked up.
It's pretty much taken this entire time to wrap my head around the fact that we're going to have a baby. And I'd like to use this blog as a platform to talk about some of the perplexing things that I'll have to think about, plan for, and eventually do as a first time mom. I'm happy, I'm shocked, I'm terrified. And you are welcome to come along for the ride!
