October 10^th, 2013

So after work I rushed into Target and bought a pregnancy test. Two, just in case. Then I sped home at entirely unsafe speeds (almost died like twice) to pee on the aforementioned pregnancy test.

The handy dandy Knocked-Up decoder on the side of the box told me that the two lines meant I am pretty pregnant.

I'm pregnant...

So then I proceeded to freak out and cry for like ten minutes and then I started texting the people I needed to text. Now I'm sitting here trying not to think of all of the implications of having a child, which I hear is basically for life.

I'm a single mom.

I'm a mom. Or will be.

You know what worries me the most though? That I'm not excited. I don't want my baby to think I don't love it... but if I'm being truthful... I don't. Not yet.

But I promise you, baby. People will love you one day. Your grandmother will and your uncles will and I will the most. Just... give me a few days to comprehend (if I ever can comprehend).

But as my friend told me, it's okay to not be okay. It's okay to be scared, sad, angry, whatever. Which is really good, cause I am all of those things.