So I’ve been missing since September 4th because I have been literally terrified about the possibility of being pregnant. SPOILER ALERT: I usually don’t talk about periods, but as they are an intregal part of the story, I will be talking about them. If you don’t like hearing about them, you’d be better off skipping this one. Those of you who are still here, let me tell you a tale.
It all started when I came in to work last week. Well, actually, it sort of all started when I first started working at this new post. My boss is an alpha female and my period therefore immediately synched with hers. I was seriously two weeks early my first month here. Thanks a lot, Denise. So since then (and since I don’t keep very good track of my periods), I’ve had a pretty good indicator of when I’d need to start packing precautionary supplies and wearing my giant, stretchy, stain-annihilating, Lane Bryant underwear by when she’s angry about her period. So back to the fakey beginning, even though you probably know where this is going by now. I walked in to work a little over a week ago and Denise mentioned her period in the midst of an Everyone-Is-Dumb tirade, the kind which I have given often in this job.
I didn’t think much about it at the time, but a few days later, I still hadn’t started my period and the idea of being late wiggled its way into my head. Don’t panic, I thought to myself. Wait a week and then take a pregnancy test. It’s probably nothing. Then my stomach started acting up. I thought about asking someone who’d had a baby before what it was like the first month, but I didn’t want to make anyone freak out before I was sure. I needed a drink desperately…fuck!
What the hell am I going to do with a baby? I couldn’t stop thinking about how we would pay for it. I’ve never liked the idea of carrying a baby with me for nine months and then giving it up, but I don’t think I could kill it either. It wasn’t until I was faced with the idea of actually having a baby that my position on aborting a baby came clear. This will probably piss some people off, but even that young, that is a child and to abort it is definitely killing a child. I don’t care if other people do it. To each her own. I know couldn’t live with myself if I had killed that baby though. Abortion was out of the question then and giving it up after all the time and effort of living with and birthing it would tear me apart, so, for me, prevention and raising a baby are the only options and I may have fucked up the prevention.
A couple days after I had resolved to wait a week and get a test, I still had no period, so I told my boyfriend about my concerns and he gave me hugs and told me we’d figure it out no matter what happened.
Have you ever looked into prices of pregnancy tests? Seriously, if you’re not paying for birth control or condoms, you’re probably not going to pay $20 for a pregnancy test either. I shopped around though and I ended up on EarlyPregnancyTests.com, a site whose main purpose is to help people conceive. Their pregnancy tests were only $2.25 each and they’re supposed to tell you if you’re pregnant before you even miss your first period. I didn’t do much research because I was incredibly worried and in a bit of a fog, but I bought them and they were going to come in about when my “No Panicking Week” was up. After I’d already placed the order, I remembered that this site wanted people to get pregnant. Uh oh… I could just see my gay (as in homosexual) dad going out to get the mail and picking up a baby blue package with “GOOD LUCK ON HAVING YOUR BABY!!!!!! :DDD” emblazoned on it. I hoped they would be more discreet.
So for two more days, I wandered around in various states of panic and righteous zeal about how I would raise my own kid. I was a wreck some hours and completely cool and calm others.
Then Wednesday, while me and Ernie were doin’ it, WHAM. Period.
Stephanie: Hah! This calls for a drink!
Ernie: Finish first, THEN drinks.
Stephanie: I like your style!
So I had an incredibly strong rum and coke at three in the morning and went out the next day to buy a gigantic steak (which is going on three days feeding us) for an incredibly relieved I’m Not Pregnant Celebratory Dinner.
I probably could have raised a kid, but I’m not sure I’m ready to give up spending my money irresponsibly and having sex whenever I feel like it, which is why I’m getting an IUD implanted as soon as humanly possible and not taking it out until me and Ernie can feed ourselves comfortably (giant celebratory steaks aside). And yes, Ernie, you have every right to be just a bit disappointed that there is no baby coming, but you know there’s plenty of time for that later. I’m not going anywhere.