Learning About the Birds and Bees at 33.

Oh Shit/Cool, I’m Pregnant.

I don’t know about you, but I spent most of my post pubescent life avoiding pregnancy like, well, pregnancy. I was a bit of a “late bloomer” to the “P in the V” game but once I got there at the tender age of almost 20, I was always super safe. I stocked up on condoms like a “Doomsday Prepper” who thought they’d somehow be currency in the post Apocalyptic world. Then I jumped on the birth control train. I was just terrified of pregnancy and STD’s and to be honest, men in general. Honestly, I pray my future offspring will be like me. I was a bit of a psycho. I was there the moment the pharmacy opened on those few occasions the condom broke to get Plan B, harassing the pharmacist with questions about the percentage of still getting pregnant after using it. I was the girl often telling her “freerer” friends,

“Remember, if he doesn’t care about using a condom with you, he’s doesn’t care about using a condom with every girl he sticks his dirty dick into.”

I was already like everyone’s annoying Mom. But I mean most of my girl friends were avoiding pregnancy too. Condoms, birth control, pull out, rhythm method, Plan B, moon cycle, whatever it was, they were likely using something. And I stupidly assumed, incorrectly, for way too long, that you could get pregnant any time of the month. I just don’t remember that lesson in health class about a woman’s ovulation calendar (or let’s be honest I probably wasn’t listening). The only thing I remember was about getting your period, AIDS, and what tampons were (insert teen boys stifling laughter).

So now here I was, married in my 30’s and getting into the “baby game” when I find out wait, you can only get pregnant a few days out of the month? Well ain’t that some shit. My husband is a few years older than me and I have a Jewish Jersey mother who’s been passively guilting me for grandchildren since the moment we said “I do” so the time felt as right as it would ever be. I guess. Fuck, I’m still not sure. Somedays I’m like baby crazy and gimme gimme a tiny little combination of my husband and I and then other days I still want to go see DJ’s I’m clearly too old for and stay up all night on E and sleep in and have my biggest dilemma be where we’re going for brunch the next morning. But anyway, here we are. And suddenly I was learning all about my body for the first time. Suddenly I was trying hard to do everything that instinctually my brain and body tried for so long NOT to do. And that’s when I learned it might not even be that easy. Man, all these “Teen Moms” must be fucking like teen rabbits. I mean sure it can happen if you have sex once, but damn the sheer luck! Do you even know what cervical mucus is? I didn’t! It’s like your body’s way of saying (in a British accent in my mind at least):

“Pardon me, you’re ovulating and ready for Sir Penis if you choose.”

Cervical mucus (charming adorable name) looks like egg whites in your undies. Just thought I’d cram in a little health lesson for you. And also they have these ovulation kits now where you pee on a stick and it tells you the days you’re most fertile. Fuck yeah technology. How did our parents even procreate before technology and the Internet? I mean my parents only had sex twice for my brother and I so they must have been pretty fucking magical. Oh and did you know you’re actually pregnant 10 months? Yeah, we’ve all been lied to. I mean I always remember hearing 40 weeks but just assumed it meant 9 months but noooooo. It’s the full 9th month so you hit 9 months and you still have 4 more fucking weeks to go! Those dirty little liars.

So anyway, somehow my husband and I decided it’s time to dive into this chapter. Well, not really dive more like slowly walk. Sashay if you will? We had a month in mind to start but then I wanted to go on this trip and to that party and what if I was pregnant? Meanwhile it can take for-ever to get pregnant but what if, you know? Finally we settled on a month. That first month I just tried to figure out my calendar with a little Googling but we ended up visiting our parents and staying in guest rooms when it was apparently “go time” and it was super hard to find the time, place, privacy and mood to get busy that first month. We kind of made it work but it was harder than you’d imagine to be quiet and also not feel constantly grossed out that our parents were often only separated by a thin wall. So that month was a no go. So the next month I go to Target and feel super judged by every patron there for no reason as I grab myself one of those ovulation kits and some weird pregnancy lube for good measure that I for sure wasted money on. After a few months of doing the kit and having lots of sex at the appropriate times when a smiley face appeared and then getting my period I was overwhelmed with crazy confusing emotions. Damn, how am I not pregnant yet we’re doing everything right? Have I fried my Uterus from being a life long pot smoker? Am I infertile? Does my husband have lazy hyper active weed induced sperm? Does he have enough sperm? Are they abnormal one-eyed two-tailed sperm? Do sperm have eyes? Are my eggs ok? What the fuck is going on in my body? I’d be overwhelmed with disappointment but then also a strange sense of ease that I could smoke weed and have freedom and drink Bloody Marys and party and feel great a little longer. I certainly felt pulled in two directions. Then one month my period never came. After it was 7 days late and I had enough Bailey’s in my coffee (stop judging me it was the holidays and my period could have just been really late!) we felt like it was time to take a pregnancy test. What do you do when you’re equally terrified for it to say YES and NO? It’s a strange sensation. I honestly didn’t want to take it but knew I had to. I peed. We waited. We walked back into the bathroom together and crept up to the test. YES, glaring back at us in big letters. We hugged, shocked and excited and not quite feeling the gravity of the situation. What a surreal emotion. Part of me felt like even at 33 I was still somehow way too young for all of this but also kind of ready but also, is this seriously happening? And now all I want to do is smoke a joint to celebrate but I can’t. Aw fuck, well here we go.