This is how this wild ride started...well not really, but you know what I mean.

I just found out I think I'm pregnant. (Dan made me change that just now from "I'm pregnant" to "I think I'm pregnant.") Although I feel like I've been a super swell mother to my cats going on four years in May, I'm very happy to be going through a more traditional motherhood - the human kind. I'm growing a human!

Before I put 2 and 2 together I thought I was going crazy - my back hurt, I couldn't sleep, I felt a little off, but not so much that I took anything for it, and nothing sounded good to eat. Then early this week, the only thing that seemed to make me stable were saltine crackers. As Dan was driving me home after dropping off my car at the shop (which turned out to be the 4th water pump in 4 years!) it all came together in my head. I went home, peed on the stick, took a shower, and when I came out I saw the two pink lines like a neon sign - PREGNANT! PREGNANT! PREGNANT!

Dan and I had a nice talk about it, where he was way more stable and rational than me. We decide to not freak out (too late!) until we have some sort of "more official" results from a licensed professional.

The next day I had off and I couldn't bring myself to call for an appointment. I felt/feel like crap and whenever I get motivated to pick up the phone, I feel like I need to puke then sit down with more crackers and watch Oprah. Then Oprah is over, I realize it's 5 o'clock, and all the medical professionals in the world leave at or before 5. Great. I know Dan will be pissed with my seeming lack of care or concern for how he is feeling at this particular intersection of life, and when he gets home, he acts pretty much like I thought he would: in a long drawn out way he says "Ohhhhhh kyyyyyyyyy."

I try one last thing and called my happy, local, Planned Parenthood clinic. They were open! Until 7pm! But they do urine tests and not blood tests, so I nixed that option. I love that they accommodate their business hours for working folks who may not have the option to come in M-F 8am-4:30pm. Makes sense, right?

The next day I call my "regular" doctor (as regular as can be with living out of the city for two years) and get their answering service. I called at 4:32. Their office closes at 5 but they turn the machines on 30 prior to closing. What?!

The next day I call at 12:36. Their office closed at noon. I call two other OBGYNs in the area and same answer. Doesn't anyone work!? I need proof I'm pregnant! I can't go home, AGAIN, and tell my Dan that I don't have an appointment!

But I do.

So, officially, I'm not pregnant. Really, I could just have weird stomach ghosts and fake super smelling powers (no joke, I can smell everything like it's right in front of my face. The litter box gets cleaned twice a day now, I have to leave the room with Dan eats, and the couch...well I can smell the dust in the couch. It's creepy.) I could have a late period for other reasons, and I might feel tired because of lots of things.

I agree that we shouldn't freak out or tell people until a much later time, but I'm having a really hard time putting my Big Girl Face on and pretend that all is well. Work feels like eons. Eating is a battle. I can't remember things. It's like all this came out of nowhere and in (what feels like a day) I'm in a new body and I don't have an owner's manual!

I talked with three of the five grand parents today and all I wanted to do was share my news. But, I don't think it's fair to spill, if I really am all of those mysterious things instead of pregnant. So, mom, dad, Linda - I'm sorry I didn't tell you on the phone today when we spoke!

Oh god, it feels good to get some of this stuff out of my head! The other great thing about typing this all out - I didn't feel sick once while writing! Am I growing a lover of the Arts?!