The trials of becoming a working mother began the moment I discovered I was pregnant. Were we trying to get pregnant? Not exactly, but we were both considering the idea without considering the logistics of paying for him or her. We were both in mid-twenties range and my "life-plan" had always been to have my first baby by then. I think this "life-plan" is a phenomenon of my generation of over-achievers. Make it to the top of the class in high school, go to college, get a career and get married, and have babies before thirty. So it looks like I am on track so to speak - but nowhere in my plan was I hoping to put my baby in daycare and live paycheck to paycheck. [Sidenote* despite the not so well thought out conception, I am completely in love with my child and feel so blessed to be the mom to such a special baby.]
So traveling back in time to when I found out I was pregnant: It was June 30th, 2009 and a miserable hot day in Florida. My best friend and college roommate had just been for a visit and we were discussing the possibility of me being pregnant that morning. I was starting to suspect something was off seeing as how I recently downed half a jar of banana peppers. "I will wait a few more days," I told Elizabeth at breakfast that morning as we enjoyed Panera bread bagels and coffee. Elizabeth left after breakfast and all I could think about was the other evidence building: 1)ate can of tuna for the first time in a year, 2)ate pickles and ice cream back to back, 3)the aforementioned banana peppers, 4) nauseated off and on for the past few days. By that evening, I was convinced I should take the pregnancy test. I didn't tell Noah I was going to take the test because I had thought I might be pregnant before and I wasn't. So while he was eating dinner, I went to find out. The test said "pregnant." I called out to Noah, but he ignored me as he assumed it was something that could wait until after he finished dinner. So I put the cover on the test and walked it out to him. I couldn't even speak...so much was going through my mind (health, cost, etc.) that I just tapped him on the shoulder and showed him. Noah took a good look at it and grinned. "REALLY?" he asked. He was very excited and I was terrified. Suddenly all those thoughts of "lifeplan" were out the window and all I could think was that I wasn't ready for this. I said, "What if I am not healthy, what if I do something wrong...." Noah reassured me that this was not a "me" situation, it was a "we" thing and we would be okay. God would provide and we were doing this together.
All the parents were out separately that Monday evening and so we called them all individually. My mom didn't believe me at first and insisted I was joking. Noah's mom was unreachable in Canada at the time. My dad was out at a business dinner but took my call and was thrilled - I thought he might even make an announcement to the restaurant. Noah's dad was excited as well. Lastly, my brother Brent said he wouldn't believe it until the doctor confirmed it. In the end, everyone was happy and excited (well except Brent, who maintained it was not for sure yet).
I called Elizabeth but she didn't pick up after two calls so I just left a message "I took the test, call me."
