Finding Out

Fuck shit damn fuck fuck fuck shit damn! That was my initial reaction to the first pregnancy test. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck was my reaction just minutes later to test number two. And "are you fucking kidding me, still?" was my reaction to test number three a few days later. Somehow I thought that the result would magically change.

It's not that I don't like kids, I mean hell I am the world's best aunt to a dozen in a half kids, but I just never thought they were for me. I don't know the real words to any nursery rhymes, although I may be able to spout out Andrew Dice Clay's versions. I get nervous watching a five year old walk down two freaking steps. I am selfish. I have more clothes than any woman needs. I like drinking. I like smoking. I love the Caribbean. I have gone through the past 37 years making sure I was taken care of. I am not saying I have not been a good sister, daughter, aunt, friend, and lover. I actually kick ass at relationships. But, I know me. I know how nervous of a person I am. The simpler, the better. Well now that's fucked.

Thankfully I have an incredible man who also has super sperm. You see we were supposed to be in the clear from this baby shit. He had cancer a few years back and had direct radiation to his groin. That's supposed to kill the swimmers. Apparently he has a Michael Phelps in there. I don't even want to mention my super thick uterus.

So here I am 8 weeks pregnant. I am hoping I did no long term harm to the little human inside me when I was in Vegas last week. Sorry seed, I got you quite drunk. I will not be surprised if your first word in fireball or vodka.

So now this journey has begun. Hopefully I was fall in love with this little human and be able to tell the world that against all odds somehow, someway, I am going to be a Mother. And hopefully, I will be a good mother and not totally fuck up the life of another human being.