It's a startup baby
Back in November I quit my full-time job to pursue a path of my own. Three days later, I found out I was pregnant.
The evening before, my sister and I were having some engaging pillow talk, brainstorming cocktails for our upcoming Thanksgiving feast. Out of nowhere, she asked if I had taken a pregnancy test. If I wasn't so untalented at getting up from air mattresses, I would've (gently) slapped her in the arm. Um...NO! Why would I take a test? It's not like I was trying to have kids. I wasn't avoiding them, but I wasn't TRYING in the active sense of the word. I wasn't counting cycles and lunar eclipses or whatever. (All I could think of this scene from The Big Lebowski...clearly I know very little about human reproduction). Besides, it had only been a month since I stopped taking the pill. I figured at some point in the next year I'd feel nauseous and know something was up.
But my sister, who's smarter than I am (AND a doctor AND doesn't underestimate the power of Puerto Rican ovaries ;)) insisted that I check before spending Thanksgiving binging on spiked cider. So the next day we went to Walgreens to buy a pregnancy test, which I promptly took in the bathroom of said establishment as a complete joke because I never thought I'd be pregnant. I laid the plastic stick on the dusty bathroom floor and waited as two very blurry lines slowly became very crisp and clear, leaving absolutely no room for error. BAM. I came out of that bathroom looking like a white walker.
Don't get me wrong, pale-zombie-look aside, I'm super thrilled to be a mom. I can't wait to give and show my baby the world (and color, and play and watch cartoons). But sitting on top of this excitement there's a thin, Seattle-style dark cloud of fear. I'm coming out of 2 years of work-related-anxiety (bordering on depression) and feeling like there were never enough hours in the day to keep all the balls in the air: job, side hustle, marriage, friends, health... 2018 was supposed to be the year of ME, the year I would reset and recover my creativity and get to do exactly what I want, when I want. The revelation in the Walgreens bathroom signaled a complete 180. It literally lit my plan on fuego.
Fellow mom friends keep telling me to 'enjoy this time'. Ah! I know these words are supposed to be encouraging, but they make me feel like I'm sprinting towards a cliff with no parachute or mountaineering equipment to climb back up. If Sheryl Sandberg was standing right here she would tell me that's nonsense, that I can DO IT ALL: career and motherhood. But can I really Lean In so hard without falling on my face?
I want so badly to put a nice, tidy bow on this post and conclude with an epiphany, but it just wouldn't be true. I'm a lot of feels right now (made worse by the fact that I've been binge watching This Is Us). I'm excited and I'm scared and I'm ready and I'm not and excited and scared and HOLY SHIT I'm probably not ready. Only time (and this blog) will tell.