I wasn’t going to write this, at least not now, not this early, but it’s just not my style to stay quiet, especially with my body and my story.

I’m pregnant.

About a week and a half ago I was feeling a bit strange…honestly, I was sure I was going to get my period.  I had lots of PMS signs and I chart so it made sense.  (I was not so crazy about having my period during tech week for Show Boat, but it is what it is, and I’d just deal with it because, well, I didn’t really have a choice.)  And then it never came.  And it kept never coming.  And I started freaking out.

I told a few people of my pregnancy suspicions – I had two beautiful, life giving conversations with two different cast members, and (at cycle day 33) I finally decided to take a test.  I initially wanted to wait until Friday, but I knew I would want to know earlier so I could start doing what I need to do – taking vitamins, getting rest (which is sort of a joke this week), and just generally mentally preparing myself.

I came home from work on Tuesday and decided to test before going to rehearsal.  As I was waiting, I prayed.  I prayed for it to be positive.  I feared it being negative, but I really really REALLY feared it being positive.  I’m not sure I’m strong enough to handle another pregnancy loss should it happen again.  And I’m not sure I’m strong enough to handle being pregnant for 9 months and carrying a healthy baby full term. Sure enough, I got a positive result.  I immediately started shaking and pacing all around the house.  I didn’t know what to feel.  I wanted to be excited, but I was mostly scared.

I took a picture and texted my friends.  IMG_2294Instead of waiting like I had before, I figured the more prayers, support, and love I could get now, the better.  I went to get blood work done to confirm the at home test.  I called my doctor and got the results of my blood work – 2150 is my number.  For those unfamiliar with hcg numbers – basically anything over 25 can register as you being pregnant.  The most important thing is that the numbers keep going up.  They should double every 48 hours.  Initially, they wanted me to take another test on Friday to make sure my numbers are rising/doubling, but I guess my number is high enough that my doctor should be able to see something with an ultrasound.  So, I have an ultrasound scheduled for Friday.

The last time I was pregnant, I made it to 8 weeks, 3 days.  My hcg levels started off in the 2000s.  I saw the baby’s heartbeat at 6 weeks.  I had a living, heart beating baby inside of me.  Now, I’m probably only 4-5 weeks along now which is SOOOOO early.  Way too early to tell people.  And incredibly early to tell the world through a blog, but I decided to basically say “screw you” to conventional wisdom and write about it.  Because I do what I want.

Writing is therapeutic for me, and it’s not like I wouldn’t write about the rest of the pregnancy however it plays out, so I figure starting at the very beginning is the best way to tell my story.

So, right now at this very moment, I’m pregnant.  And I’m terrified and excited and afraid and hopeful and so damn tired I can’t even process these emotions appropriately.  I’m trying to be positive and to “throw love at all of my fears” as a wonderfully beautiful human being instructed me, but it’s hard.  I’m writing this because I need love.  I need prayers.  I need positive energy.  I need support.  I need sticky baby dust.  I need good thoughts.  I need all of the world’s good vibes coming my way.

And I need them from the very beginning.  Because, no matter what happens, I’m pregnant.  I’ve created two lives – something I was told I’d never do.

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