So I guess it is really for real. I got the call from the nurse, and after blood tests on Monday, and more testing on Wednesday, it looks like not only am I indeed preggers, but so far everything is growing and progessing normally. Not that I should be suprised, if there were ever going to be a time when everything goes fine, this would be the time right? When I have a 4 yr old who thinks she is the center of the universe (as she should) a 6 mo old who is honestly the easiest baby ever, and I just got laid off. Of course I would get pregnant now. Greg and I have not been "safe" for about 5 years, so now would be a perfect time, right? ugh.
But honestly, as ironic and hilarious and frustrating as it is, I am really, really, really excited. Granted, trying to figure what kind of vehicle I am going to buy (and trying to figure out how to finance it while unemployed) that will hold three car seats and not be a mini van sucks, and the fact that I am going to Las Vegas in two weeks for a raging girls weekend that was originally supposed to be 3 days of drinking, hot tubbing and dancing and will now likely be eating, sleeping and complaining about my sore boobs is kind of a bummer; but overall I am really stoked. I thought that this could never happened. I thought that my body had betrayed me. I made peace with the fact that people would never come visit me in the hospital to see the new baby. I was ok that not once would I ever be able to say "No, I am not just fat, I am pregnant." But now I am! I feel absolutely blissful. Well yucky and blissful. But thrilled nonetheless. I suppose after two miscarriages I should be more conservative. After all, there is still the risk of something going wrong. But I cannot think that way. I have to be positive, and let my mind run 90 miles a minute. What name will we use? How can I decorate the nursery (hilarious since Tessa still doesn't even have curtains)? Will I be one of those giant pregnant women who can only wear Birks after 7 months?
So, as many times as I have cussed at God in the last week, wondering why He finds it so amusing to mess with MY LIFE over and over again, now that it has been confirmed, and looks like everything is going well, I find myself, as nonreligious as I am, thanking Him, and praying, praying, praying for a healthy baby. Even if it does mean driving a mini van.