Pregnancy vs. Drugs

I have to admit something I'm not proud of in order to appropriately draw an important parallel. Earlier in life when I was dabbling in rebellion and "finding myself", I was tempted by the lure of drugs and alcohol. My first alcoholic drink was red wine, consumed at the wee hours of a New Year's Eve morning in the attempts to "catch up" to the rest of the party-goers, who, by the way, were already 90% passed out. I was running late because I worked that night, and was anxious to take advantage of the glorious (and naive) permission my parents had generously given me to attend this party. Arriving breathless and excited at around 3:00 am, my mostly drunken host offered me cheap red wine in a plastic cup - all that was left. He was the only one awake, and I was the only one sober. Both effects were resolved in the next hour, and my new status, one that stayed with me until dawn offensively crept in, was clutching the porcelain curves of a bachelor's dirty toilet.

Those particular party attendees were a group of people I wanted to fit in with, so a few years later when they introduced marijuana to me, I eagerly accepted. My first joint was remarkably unexciting. I didn't like the taste, and I hated the burning in my throat. But still, in the name of popularity I tried again. And again, and again, until finally the sought-for high hit me. We sat around and laughed at nothing, or just stared for hours at inanimate objects, intermittently giggling or reaching for another hit. Coming down from the high was the worst part. It was always followed by a headache and a sense of restlessness, and finally, I get to my much anticipated parallel.

Pregnancy is a little like getting high. It doesn't always happen on the first try. You have to try again and again for the drug to take effect, but once it does! There's nothing else like it; you giggle for no apparent reason, you're always rooting around for the next snack, and it's best shared with friends. There's a crash in pregnancy too, once you've gone around and told everyone you know that you're pregnant, there's no one else to tell. It's a little disconcerting, really. You find yourself purposefully rubbing your belly or pretending your back hurts just so someone will ask. You plead with your husband to take you into Babies R' Us to 'look around' when in reality you're just hoping the cashier will ask you when you're due. You join online blogs so you can chat with other women in the same boat...

So there, I've found a way to connect druggies with pregnant women. And you thought it couldn't be done!

My point is, now everyone knew that we were pregnant, and I wasn't sure what the next step was. Was I supposed to feel sick now? Where are the flutters? Should we start on the nursery? I was restless; I was excited with no where to expel my energy. Mostly, I was impatient. I wanted that baby NOW!

We waited.

"Amens!" and S-E-X

It was difficult deciding who to tell first, but we decided on my parents since, after all, my mother was to be my midwife. Thanksgiving Day was going to be our Big Day to share our precious secret with everyone. Since we were traveling to Ty’s family’s house first but wanted to tell my parents before his, we rushed over to my parents’ house beforehand. As we were pulling into their driveway, however, my dad was just leaving. We tried to flag him down, but he blithely waved and continued on his way. This put a momentarily kink in our plans, but we decided we would tell my mom anyway.

Mom was surprised to see us at her house so early, which I think aroused some intuitive suspicions. We chatted her up for a few minutes, asking nosy questions about where my dad had gone and what kinds of foods would we be enjoying later in the afternoon. She answered them cautiously, still not sure why we were there so early. Finally we cut to the chase, and I asked her if I could check out her midwifery wheel to find out when I was due. She laughed and said “No” and then gave us a second look and asked, “Really? Are you?” We grinned stupidly which was enough for her! After some hugs and light bouncing on her part, she did go get her wheel, and estimated our due date to be July 20^th, 2006.

Next stop was Ty’s mother and step-father’s house. We were having “first” Thanksgiving dinner with them, and had our approach all planned out. We kept our faces appropriately disguised throughout pre-dinner conversations and focused hard on not making eye contact with each other to ensure we would avoid bursting out in glowing smiles. Finally we all gathered around the table and began our traditional ritual of each mentioning something we’re truly grateful for. Ty went last, and when it got to him he thanked God for all of our many blessings, his family, his wife, and the opportunity we were getting to become parents. A shocked silence was quickly followed by unceremonious “Amens” and an uproar of delight, especially from my mother-in-law – who, later pulled me aside and confided to me that she was hoping it was a boy…”For Ty, you know.” I laughed and then stopped when I realized she was serious. “Well, I would like a boy too, but we’re just hoping for a healthy baby of course,” I grinned at her.

We both felt highly satisfied with that experience, and when it was time to go back to my parents’ house for “second” dinner, we decided to use the same approach. First we had to tell my dad though, it wasn’t fair for him to find out with the rest of my extended family. We pulled him into the office and with smiles told him he was going to be a grandpa. He moved quickly from excitement for us to another stage: “Oh, wow, Tweets! That’s so great, good for you guys! (Hugs us) Ok, now how are you going to tell everyone else? You know what you should do?” He asked, and mapped out a plan for us to announce it. We laughed at his thought processes and all went out to the table to gather in prayer. We ended the prayer circle with Ty again, and he repeated his gratefulness at our chance to become parents. Again, the “Amens” were mostly skipped over the cries of congrats from my grandparents and siblings.

We had a lot of fun with all the various ways we told the rest of our family and friends. There is something so unique in announcing a pregnancy; so different than announcing a new job or moving to a new house or even getting married. While all those things are fun to tell too, they just cannot compare to broadcasting a pregnancy. It is such an accomplishment, and even as commonplace as it might seem, it never fails to bring on genuine joy from your friends and family. It is the one time you can say – in so many words – “Guess what? We had sex!” and it will not feel dirty or embarrassing!

The Warmth Within

Being pregnant is vastly different than not being pregnant, and not just for the obvious reasons. Especially in the first few weeks when you haven’t told EVERYONE yet and this piece of knowledge is all your own – and hopefully your husband’s – and you can just savor it. I wondered how I could be growing a tiny individual with a heart beat already developed and coursing microscopic blood cells through near-invisible veins and not feel it. How was my uterus not on fire with this brand-new feeling? How were my fallopian tubes not dancing with the same intensity my own heart beat was? How was it possible that I could feel such choking happiness while my body still looked and acted like it always did? Every night as we lay down to sleep I would place both my palms over my womb, very low where I knew our baby was growing rapidly and would try to feel the process. I would feel my own heart beat there and momentarily get lost in the giddiness of believing I could feel the baby’s heart beat. I tried to listen inside myself – very quietly I would breathe – hoping to hear gurgles of movement. I became a new woman in those early weeks; no longer was I ashamed of my body or its limitations. I was feeling a new sense of pride and awe at my capabilities. It was a wonderful feeling! Ty and I prayed carefully each night for our child. We prayed for the baby’s health, happiness and faith. We prayed for an easy labor for me, and we especially prayed for patience! Eight more months seemed so far away!