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Suddenly Jeggings Seem Like a Great Idea

August 19, 2013

Or How I Found Out I Was Pregnant in a Truck Stop Bathroom

In July, Moose and I set off for a trip to Arkansas to see some friends and celebrate the independence of our nation by lighting things on fire.  My period had been a little bit late and I’d taken a pregnancy test earlier in the week that came back negative.  But since going to see friends usually meant drinking, I took another one, just in case.

And got nothing.  I don’t mean negative.  I mean NOTHING.  I didn’t even get the little bar that shows you it’s working.   Moose and I chalked it up to me buying cheap generic brand pregnancy tests, which come to think it may have been the cause for the first result, too.  So in addition to the usual last minute road trip supplies we always wind up having to buy on the way out of town, I bought a much fancier pregnancy test.

Naturally, I couldn’t simply take the test first thing.  I was stubborn and waited until we made our first pit stop.  Equally as expected was the unlucky woman who rattled the doorknob just seconds after I’d closed the door.  I prayed that this considerably fancier pregnancy test was also considerably quicker than the ones I’d taken before.  No messing around with lines or pluses this time.  I’d bought one with a nice, clear, easily readable electronic display that blinked once, twice, three times…

PREGNANT

Which is why I spent a weekend in Arkansas with some of my favorite drinking buddies sipping on ginger ale and mooning over all the glorious beer I couldn’t have.  Fortunately, there was also Rock Band, Cards Against Humanities, and fireworks, so shenanigans were assured no matter what.

Moose and I kept the secret as best we could for the next few weeks.  Which is mostly to say that I only told my boss, neither of us posted it on social media, and pretty much anyone else we saw in person knew within seconds.  Which proved itself a particularly useful choice during the get together with my mother’ side of the family that included a truly terrible reservations snafu which was more than made up for by the restaurant we wound up going to instead.  The simple phrase “She’s pregnant and needs to eat” got me a piping hot loaf of fresh bread within seconds of being seated.   Sadly the nausea had taken over at that point and despite sitting at a table surrounded by some of the most amazing steak I have ever seen outside of my brother-in-law’s kitchen, I could only eat a little seafood.

It’s been rough, though not as rough as it could be.  The nausea has been almost constant for the past five weeks and I am still adjusting.  After some experimentation, Moose has declared that I should eat a small something every two hours, regardless of whether or not I am hungry.  Either it’s working, or I’ve finally suffered enough that The Kid has decided to settle down into the more serious process of growing teeth and internal organs.

The major thing I simply was not prepared for was how FAST my body would change.  I knew that eventually there would be a watermelon sized protrusion where my little pooch used to be, but I pretty much went from “I think I have too many jeans” to “Huh, I just busted out the ass on my favorite fat pants” in a matter of weeks.  Granted, I’m fairly certain those jeans are at least 8 years old and they were getting a little thin in places, but still.  I have always before considered jeggings to be an insane invention that could never compete with a good pair of real jeans.  Now I find myself seriously considering displays of jeggings and corduroy leggings wondering if it might just be easier to buy something that will accommodate my rapidly growing… family.

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