The Part With the Unprotected Sex
This is a prequel to the About page.
So, the following paragraph used to be a book, but because I like you, I’ve reduced it to:
When we met, neither me nor my husband wanted kids. Then I wanted kids and he didn’t. Then a little while ago he decided he wanted kids too.
There, that gets us up until early September, and I still have material leftover for my memoirs. (All blogs get book deals, right?) So, a couple of days before my 31st birthday, I go to my Doctor of Lady Parts to say that we’re starting to think about one day perhaps having a family maybe, and is this advisable with my health stuff? (I’m healthy in a day-to-day sort of way, but have a couple of diagnoses for chronic pain and the like that when combined equal “health stuff.” I’m also a cane-walker because of an otherwise minor back thing that doesn’t play well with the other health stuff.) Oh yeah, she says, this is totally advisable; when the baby comes just put stuff on high shelves instead of in low drawers that you’d have to bend down to reach, and you’ll pretty much be set. Great news! “So,” I says to her, “How much time do you think we have to make this decision? I work for a non-profit and we are not money-havers, so ideally we’d like a few years to get prepared financially.”
“Uh, I think if you’re not pregnant by April you should come see me.”
“Yeah, April. Normally we say to give it a year up until you’re 35, but in your case, I’d say April.”
The thought was that we may have trouble conceiving, and this would give us some time to explore other options if necessary. So she gave me some prenatal vitamin samples and instructed me to go home and start having unprotected sex on a regular basis.
It turned out there were no problems conceiving, and exactly two months later, I peed on a stick and a bunch of lines showed up on it.
So that’s how it came to pass that, in spite of the fact that I’ve wanted a child for a while, I now find myself completely unprepared to deal with the small human growing in my uterus.