This Spring, the Ultimate Journey Begins

Last spring, I was pretty excited about spending half the summer in Nicaragua volunteering, eating delicious food, making new friends, having revelations about my travel self, and doing cool things. All of the above was accomplished and I feel pretty lucky to have had such an experience.

This spring, I can top that journey. Guaranteed.

It's gonna be quite the epic trip. It will cost tons of money, I won't be booking a return ticket, and it's completely uncharted territory for me.

Umm....I am gonna have a baby.

True story.

I have known since early September, but I have been much too busy attempting to wrap my head around the fact that I will be someone's mother to tell anybody anything.

You see, I have never been the girl who spent her free hours daydreaming of her wedding, her Prince Charming, and the babies they would have together. Quite the opposite, actually. I spent most of my time delaying all of those things and instead, traipsing off to lands near and far and daydreaming of those, instead. To compound matters, the level of repulsion I feel for the acts of childbirth and breastfeeding (yes, this blog just went there) is nearly absurd. I might have a phobia or something. Please don't write and tell me how beautiful they are, because quite simply, they are not. I am fully aware that both are necessary and life-giving, but to me, both are barbaric, savage and well, just plain gross.

So what finally pushed me over the edge into pregnancy and impending motherhood?

Let's be honest and tell the truth.  When the idea of spending half the summer in Nicaragua occurred to me, I delicately broached the subject with the husband, who, didn't bat an eyelash when responding: "I would be pretty OK with you going if when you came back we could start trying to have a kid."

So yeah, I exchanged my uterus for summertime in Nicaragua.  Don't judge me. Besides, I needed something to force me to make the plunge. I am 31 now, I would have probably hemmed and hawed over this for as long as humanly possible if I didn't have motivation. I went, I saw, I did, I returned, and now, NOW, the remaining part of the bargain is in full swing. When May comes, I will be a mother.

But nothing could prepare me for the moment when I looked at the plus signs on the multiple pregnancy tests and stared, in shock.  Because really, nothing can prep you for that moment. Shock is where I remained for two days. On the third day, I cried the ugly cry, convinced my life was over and that I would never travel again and my poor passport would die a tortuous death.  On the fourth day, I decided that I was angry and called a best friend and let loose a string of  profanity that would push both of my living and healthy grandmothers much closer to the grave. On the fifth day, I woke up feel utterly peaceful and named him. (I am convinced it's a boy).

Since that fifth morning, I am still adjusting. I am no longer cursing at my friends (God bless them) or in shock, but this is big for me and thank God it takes babies 40 weeks to develop. I need every single one of those weeks. I swing from peaceful acceptance, to resigned acceptance, convinced that my traveling days are over, that I will become irrelevant, that I will cease to be me and enjoy the things that make me "me."

Some people have the maternal glow, the joyous anticipation, and ecstasy of knowing they will soon be a parent.

But not everybody does, and I think that's OK.

But here is what I do have: an amazing, supportive, and loving husband who couldn't be happier that we are taking this plunge together. I am beyond blessed to have him. I have a wonderful network of supportive family and friends who get me, and who say "Claire, it's ok to feel the way you do." I also have the blessing of being someone's mother. Although, to be clear, it is that very thing that terrifies me, almost as much as doing the things necessary to deliver a baby.

I have five months to find a more pleasant, dignified, and ladylike method of childbirth.

And you know what? I will travel again. Just not in the third trimester.