I’m seven weeks into my hardcore dieting and workout phase for a fitness competition in December when I start to get extra frustrated with my bloated belly. I’m eating right. I’m working out. What gives?
Then I think, “Hmmm… I’m a little late but fluctuation in my menstrual cycle has happened before when I’ve changed my diet. Oh, that’s gotta be what it is. Yes, come to think of it, my boobs are a little sore.” I assume that my PMS is causing said bloating and breast tenderness and that I’ll be getting Aunt Flo any day now. My sister, who is visiting from Chicago for one last vacation before her next baby is due, suggests that I take a pregnancy test and I laugh it off.
After a few more days of getting the “yes, you are!” look from my sister, I finally take a pregnancy test.
It’s positive. OMG.
The first thing I think is, “No wonder my body has been resistant to this diet!” and I’m happy that my unprecedented phenomenon has been explained. The second thing I think is, “Wow.”
My husband, David, and I thought that life could be great if we had kids or if we didn’t have kids. Honestly, I could see a great future either way since both my siblings have kids and I love being an aunt. I’m 41 and never been pregnant so we both just thought, “Hey, if it happens great. If not, that’s okay, too.” We didn’t want to have ovulation charts on the wall or take any fertility drugs. But we had been married for a year and nothing was happening so I just kind of figured, “Okay, guess that’s not going to happen.”
So looking at those little blue lines on a stick, I was happily in shock. Isn’t life funny?
Then I think back and realize that I did a 10K Gladiator Race while pregnant and I’m really proud of myself. Then I get freaked out that I’ve done SOMETHING over the last few weeks that I’m sure has caused this baby to have three heads. Uh oh, I had seafood. Isn’t that bad? I had a few sips of red wine on the boat the other day. What does alcohol do to a fetus? Is there anything bad in that protein powder? What about those ice baths? SH*T!!!! Sorry, baby! I’m already the worst mother in the world.
Then I think, “Well, unless they have a pregnant lady division, I guess that’s it for the fitness competition. Where can I get some cake?”
When David got home that night from work, I was watching What to Expect While You’re Expecting. I told him I had a gift for him in the bathroom. He came out holding the little stick with the blue lines, looked at the TV, looked back at me and smiled while he screamed, “What did you do?!?”
I laughed, “Hi, Daddy!”
We laughed and hugged, both of us in shock. According to a little online due-date calculator, I am due in June. My plan had been to do my first fitness competition before getting into a PhD program in the spring. Now, I’d have to change up my plans. Perhaps doing a fitness competition AFTER the baby is due would be a great way to get back in shape. And really, if the baby is due in June, then I could get at least one semester under my belt, deliver the baby, take the summer to coo to it before starting up school again in the fall at which time we could find some help. It could be done, right?
My first doctor’s appointment shows everything to be normal so far and the baby has a strong heart beat – and only one head. I know there’s a long way to go still, but I’m feeling great.
I’m not sure how everything is going to work out. All I know is that I’m committed to giving this baby the best nutrition possible while I keep myself strong and healthy during this amazing process. I’ve got lots of reading to do. In fact, I would welcome any suggestions any parents have out there! Please post your book suggestions to the comments below.
Photos courtesy of Shutterstock and Zen Gray.
