Everything Happens For A Reason

Before we get to the actual blog post, my apologies for not posting while I was out of town. The hotel charged for wi-fi in the room, and I wasn't paying it (or have my employer pay it and then ask me why I couldn't go to the lobby and use the free wi-fi, and then I'd have to response with "my snacks were all in my room, and bringing my own booze down would seem classless.) 

I learned a rather important life lesson about 2 years ago. When I was 13, doctors told me that my ovaries were pretty screwed up and that I would never be able to have children of my own without uber expensive fertility treatments. It wasn't a big deal to me. At 13, I wasn't in the mindset of wanting kids or a family anyway. I had an entire world to tackle! I never thought anything of it until the night I got knocked up. Apparently by "uber expensive fertility treatments" by doctors meant "go celibate for a year, then have a one-night stand that involves Mich Ultra and Mexican-ghetto gas station condoms." Let me set the stage (some of you have heard this, but bear through the re-telling):

January 14, 2010 (A year and a day celibate) 
After work, I decided to head to Bridgestone arena to catch some college hockey. (I <3 college hockey.) Merrimack College was taking on U-Alabama Hunstville. They were also serving ridiculously cheap beer to get people to attend. Mich Ultra was the best option of the cheap beer, so I had PLENTY of them. So many of them, that I knew I needed to stop at McDonalds on the way home, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I bet these guys from Merrimack and after the game was over we parted ways. I went to McDonalds to get my Happy Meal to sober up, and then made my way to a friend's house to start pre-gaming for our night of drinking.

At the first bar we stopped at, I saw my new Merrimack friends. Drinks were bought, phone numbers exchanged, plans to hook up later confirmed, and then my friends and I went on our merry way. At the last bar of the night, baby daddy picked me up. I high-fived everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) as I left the bar while exclaiming, "I'm getting laid!" (I'm classy, y'all.) We stopped by a gas station in the Mexican ghetto where I lived to get condoms, and then went home to take care of business. I kicked him out after it was over, but something inside of me was concerned that I was pregnant almost immediately.

After I was late, I took LOTS of at home pregnancy tests with most of them confirming I was pregnant. Internal monologue: How is that possible? The doctors told me I would never be able to have a kid of my own! You can't tell me that guy has magic sperm! This can't be happening. What am I going to do? What are my Southern Baptist parents going to say? I can't afford to have a baby. This can't be real. I can't get pregnant. 

I went to the doctor to have a blood test done. I've had a false positive before, so I thought maybe I just had lots of false positive this time. (Yep, still in denial.) I get the phone call and had this awkward exchange:

DO: "Congratulations! "
Me: "I'm not pregnant?"
DO: "Oh, um, no, you're pregnant."
(Doctor's offices REALLY shouldn't lead with that unless they know you've been trying to get pregnant.)

This whole experience has taught me some of  the most important life lessons I've learned, the first lesson being that everything happens for a reason. (Yes, this is a teaser to tomorrow's lesson. The story isn't fully over!)