So there are things in this world I have a certain disdain for. Wet socks when I'm wearing them. Wet feet on tile floor. Rachel Ray (long story - hop to the end - chick almost burned my house down). People that smack their lips when they eat. Things that affect me but are out of my control. And now I have a new one to add to the list.
Not Plan B as in "what I'm gonna do if Plan A doesn't work". Plan B as in the morning after pill that is supposed to act as your PLAN B because PLAN A worked a little too well. The Plan B that brags about letting you have "control over your body and life". The Plan B that didn't work.
If you didn't figure it out from the above let me spell it out for you.
Girl met boy
Girl and boy fell in love
Girl and boy do the deed and aren't so careful
Girl says to boy:
"I love you dearly but I don't think I'm ready to be a mommy yet, so I'm going to go to the doctor and pick up the morning after pill tomorrow - PLAN B"
"Ok. I will go with you for support."
Girl and boy go to doctor and get PLAN B a full 10 hours after not being careful
Girl takes pills EXACTLY as directed and feels relieved that the little mishap has been taken care of
I should also mention that due to various health issues on both sides, neither one of us thought I could really get pregnant anyway. I had also tried for a year and a half with my ex-husband and it never happened, so this PLAN B was really just a "just in case" thing for me.
Fast forward 3 weeks. Take a listen to my brain.
"Aunt Flo should be coming to visit today. Hmmmmm....I'm not cramping. This is odd. I'm never late. My body is like clockwork - every 28 days for the last 20 years. I'm never late. Maybe I'm just stressed. If it's not here tomorrow I'm taking a test."
3 weeks and one day.
"That was a weird dream. My tooth came out. I'm pregnant. Titi Mimi always said if you dream of your tooth coming out either you're pregnant or someone close to you is. I'm pregnant. I know I am. I'm buying a test this afternoon"
6 hours later.
"pee pee pee....wipe wipe wipe...glance over at stick after 30 seconds of peeing on it....WHAT THE ^$^#@!&()*%!!!!"
6 hours and 2 minutes later.
UNCONTROLLABLE LAUGHTER. Seriously. Rolling on the floor, tears rolling down my cheeks, LAUGHTER. I called my girlfriend (who coincidentally was also pregnant) and she had the same reaction I did. IT WAS JUST UNBELIEVABLE. How could I - the girl who had tried dilligently for a year and a half, had a tilted and shifted uterus, AND HAD TAKEN PLAN B be pregnant????
Here's how. God laughed.
Seriously. God laughed at my earnest attempt to stop HIS plan. He laughed his happy, heavenly butt off and said "Yeah right girl. Like you have ANY control over this...I run this show - you're just along for the ride." So that was it. I was pregnant. Somewhere, floating around in my tilted and shifted uterus, a space previously occupied by ummmm....NOTHING....now supposedly had something in it. BIZARRE!!!
I hadn't told Boy yet but decided to do it over burgers. Had him meet me at Fuddruckers, and when he showed up I was shoving the biggest, sloppiest burger in history in my mouth. He should have known right then that I was knocked up. I rarely eat burgers. So he shows up, pulls up a seat and says all cool-guy like...."Hey baby - what's up?"...and like a 5 year old about to get her hand slapped I look down at my behemoth of a burger and just stare. blankly. not blinking. not speaking. not breathing. nothing. Then, it happens. The barely audible whisper which was really just moving lips and no sound.....
"What? Baby I can't hear you. What are you saying?"
Pause for reaction. And when I tell you I got more reaction from the table next to me than I did from him, I'm not kidding. The lady totally stopped drinking her soda and just stared at us. Cool-guy response:
"Wow. Cool. Congratulations!", as he leans in for a smooch.
However, he can't kiss me because I'M CHOKING ON THE AIR TRAPPED IN MY LUNGS FROM HYPERVENTILATING!! Did he hear what I just said? Does he realize it's his? (I'm no Samantha) He heard me. He knows it's his. He's cool-guy. I'm panicked girl. And up there in the heavens is laughing God. Fabulous. So finally, I manage to inhale and I'm like "Dude - what the hell?? I'm pregnant. How the hell am I pregnant?? I took Plan B." And then he says it. And I look at him. And I resist the urge to slap the "cool-guy" right outta him.
"I guess God had other plans."
And there it was. The plain, simple, hilarious truth. GOD HAS HIS OWN PLANS. I can plan all day, stay up late organizing and plotting, but what it boils down to is if He doesn't say so, it's a no-go. And so that was it. I was bound to be round. Knocked up because we didn't sock up. In the family way due to too much play. You get the point. So I geared up for the ride, said a little prayer since God was determined to run the show, and held on for dear life.
So fast forward 9 months from the Fuddruckers incident (oddly enough we haven't eaten there since) and my Plan B mishap is here.
The Fabulous Ms. Emory made her way into the world with much fanfare (taken at 38 weeks due to pre-eclampsia), and is here until God makes other plans. She has completely taken over my life. She determines when I sleep, when I eat, WHERE I eat, how I run my errands - SHE is in control, not mommy. But I guess that's what I get for attempting to make plans. That's okay though. As God has gotten me through life - I'm sure he will work through her to get me through this mommy-hood thing too. Good thing she's cute though. It's much easier to take orders from a cutie patootie, than from say - GOD.