Surprise! You're Pregnant!

A friend of mine threw me for a loop a week ago when she told me that she was 8 weeks pregnant. She was glowing like a light bulb in a blackout. I was floored because she always said my mom tales gave her the heebie-jeebies, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to dive into the kiddie pool just yet.

She confessed that while she was thrilled about the baby, she was also a bundle of nerves. I could totally vibe with that. Thinking back, I don’t remember ever telling anyone how I nearly fainted when those two blue lines popped up on my test.

Kids were not even a blip on the radar when my husband and I tied the knot at 29. We were all about climbing the career ladder and keeping our heads above water. Fast forward three years, we took a U-turn and thought, “Hey, maybe a baby wouldn’t be so bad.” Another three years passed, still no baby, so we slammed that book shut. Back to being a DINK (Double Income No Kids) duo.

Two months after shelving the baby book and six double blue line tests later, SURPRISE, WE’RE PREGNANT! I was so flabbergasted that I stashed all the tests in a shoe box and tiptoed out of the bathroom like I was carrying a box of fragile eggs. I was on my lunch break, so I placed the box on the coffee table, left the house and went back to work. Luckily, I’m great at pretending nothing’s happening and made it through the workday.

When I got home that night, the shoe box was still on the coffee table, right where I left it. I peeked inside like I was sneaking a look at a forbidden treasure, and yep, those six tests were still there, confirming I was indeed pregnant.

When my husband arrived home an hour after me, he waltzed in yapping on the phone with his brother. The frustration of not being able to blurt out the big news was like trying to hold in a sneeze. He sauntered past the box on the table without even a glance. I sat there like a statue on the couch, counting my breaths to resist the urge to scream, "I'm pregnant!" I think he said hi, and my autopilot kicked in with a reply.

Once he finally hung up and swapped his work clothes for his comfy attire, I was practically vibrating with the need to spill the beans. He loaded up a plate with the dinner I whipped up, and I waited, hoping he'd notice the baby corn and magically figure it out. Spoiler alert: he didn't. Apparently, baby corn isn't the universal symbol for "we're having a baby" that I thought it was.

He plopped down on the couch (back in the pre-kid days, we were all about those couch dinners). Just as he was about to take a bite, I blurted out, "I have a surprise for you, but you can choose to open it now or after dinner."

He hesitated, clearly baffled. In classic husband fashion, he asked, "What do you want me to do?" And naturally, I responded, "Whichever you prefer." Inside, I was mentally shouting, "OPEN THE BOX!!!!"

Somehow, he must've seen the desperation on my face or figured the situation was too weird not to investigate. I handed over the raggedy shoe box from the table. Honestly, it looked like it had been through a tornado, so he probably thought it was some kind of prank gift.

He carefully opened the lid of the shoe box, peeked inside, and his left arm and hand shot up into the air and with his fist curled into a ball, he yelled out, "YES!" I wasn’t sure what to expect, but his joy wasn’t on my bingo card. I was all mixed up. We’d been waiting for three years for this moment, and when it didn’t happen, I shut the door. Then, bam, two months later, I’m pregnant. What a plot twist!

Thinking back on that day is like watching a comedy show. All those thoughts and emotions racing around. I know some women dream of being moms forever, some think about it when they feel secure in their career, and some, like me, get the surprise of a lifetime. I can’t speak for every woman finding out she’s pregnant, but I can speak for those who are freaking out.

Your body is busy baking a tiny human! You're about to undergo every possible transformation a mom-to-be can experience, both physically and emotionally. Every choice you make from now on is affecting your baby. Right now, it's all about what you're munching on, how much you're moving, and how much you're stressing out.

I still couldn't believe something so monumental was happening to me. Thanks to my "vintage" age of 35, I got the VIP treatment of seeing a fetal specialist during my pregnancy journey. (Quick tip: if you're 35 or older, those pregnancy books can be scarier than a horror movie when they list all the things that could go wrong. I decided to skip the nightmares and stopped reading them).

I spent the first trimester feeling like I was on a never-ending merry-go-round of queasiness—what a thrill ride! Then, in the second trimester, my belly decided to make its grand debut, popping out like a jack-in-the-box. It was all becoming real, and I was getting excited! I downloaded two mom-to-be apps, and my husband jumped on another one. We had riveting discussions about our little bean, which soon upgraded to a beet, then a pumpkin, and finally, a full-blown watermelon. The first flutter of kicks blew my mind, but by the end, it felt like my tiny soccer champ was hosting the World Cup, with my bladder and stomach as the unfortunate goalposts.

By the time the pregnancy wrapped up, I looked like I'd swallowed a whole boulder! I finally got what water weight really means—my feet and shoes were the spitting image of a can of biscuits that exploded in the oven. And forget maternity jeans; my legs had puffed up so much, they had their own zip code! Yoga pants with unlaced shoes was the fashion trend at the end of my pregnancy.

I've heard women go on like they're reciting Shakespeare about how their pregnancies were all rainbows and butterflies. If you start this poetic waxing near me, I'll smile politely and think you either have selective memory loss or you're secretly a unicorn. If you've ever felt like an alien has taken over your body, brain, emotions, and sanity during pregnancy, then welcome to the club!

Anxiety was like that overly enthusiastic friend who showed up uninvited to my first pregnancy party—and, oh joy, brought its entire extended family along. The thought that this tiny human would depend on me for everything from diaper changes to deep philosophical discussions was occasionally overwhelming. Imagining my little girl beyond the baby phase was as tricky as solving a Rubik's cube blindfolded, but I knew I wanted to be there for this crazy ride. I just had no idea what that would actually feel like. I had no clue what kind of mom I'd turn out to be. I wondered constantly how all of this was going to work out.

And then she arrived. When they placed her on me, a wave of peace washed over me like never before. I knew in that moment she was meant to be my baby, and I was meant to be her Mommy.

For the new moms to be, take heart. When you see your baby for the first time, love will always be the strongest feeling.

--Amber