First of all, apologies. My weekly #FBF post ended up as a #MBTILM (My Bad This Is Late Monday) post. Sometimes you work until 11pm on a Friday and it really throws off your schedge for the weekend! But alas, here it is.
Bachelorette parties are the devil. Not really, but if you are pregnant, trying to be pregnant, or in some type of miscellaneous category in there, they are really the worst. And for the record, not because we don’t love the person we are celebrating, because we do. But we are also thinking about everything we are doing, wondering if people are noticing whether we are drinking or not, considering the food options we didn’t get to choose and whether there are soft cheeses or random other things we shouldn’t be eating in there. There’s a lot going on. So, needless to say we aren’t free to have the wild time they are meant to be.
Now add on to the normal festivity level of these weekend-full soirees, the theme of wine tasting. So, you’re flying to a destination…to spend the entire day tasting wine…and you can’t have any. And you have to come up with some bullshit reason why you can’t. And this is the kicker:
This should be a fun secret to keep for a few weeks and then reveal “remember when I said I was on antibiotics, well I am actually preggo!” But, in my case, when I had already dealt with the chemical pregnancy in January I was even more hesitant to share anything about potential pregnancies because of how that all went down.
The hubs and I were upset about the chemical pregnancy, certainly, but there was some substantial convincing you could do that it wasn’t real or wasn’t that “serious” because we never actually saw the words or the + sign on a test. It never felt truly real. So I was still pretty optimistic, albeit ultra cautious moving forward.
We tried for a few months with no luck which was a bummer but I still had hope. When May came along, I was chaperoning a trip to Disney World with our seniors (Yeah, I know, really tough life I am living at work!). I was super excited for the trip, but I also knew there was a decent mathematical chance I was pregnant, and I wanted to know before we went-with, you know, a week full of roller coasters ahead of me and all.
I checked what day I could test with a decent accuracy level and I brought along a pregnancy test with me on the trip. TOTALLY CASUAL whilst sharing a room with my supervisor. Got up early the first morning the have a lengthy pee break (circa 3 minutes) and there it was, negative. Ok, well, guess I can ride as many rides as I want! Went about my business chaperoning the heck out of 200 “adults”, and came back like normal.
But then a few days passed, and my period was due, still nothing. I decided to take another test, mistakenly bought the cheap one with the lines (do NOT recommend, too vague for my brain) and saw one bright line and one teeeeeeeeeeeny faint pink line. Brought it into the bedroom and asked my husband if he also saw what I thought was a figment of my imagination, and he definitely saw it.
Didn’t trust that nonsense, so went and bought a test with real words to take the next morning, and Monday there it was in big bold letters for the first time: PREGNANT. I was so excited. Maybe my first test was too early, this one is legit. Holy crap. Finally. Called my GYN’s office and the lady was so sure, so committed, that even with the bit of my brain that was worried, she reassured me. She cancelled my annual pap scheduled for JANUARY…”you won’t be needing that anymore!” she chimed; scheduled me for a 16 week ultrasound and that was it. I was like ummmmm shouldn’t you be more worried? Don’t many pregnancies end early? Lady, I feel like you are jumping the gun, but if you’re this confident maybe I should be too.
Two full days of bliss later, I went to a barre class on Wednesday. I was going really easy, much easier than I know I needed to be, but still. Went to pee at the studio and saw the dreaded hint of pink on the tp. Believe it or not I didn’t totally freak out. This time was different. This time I had a positive test, the lady cancelled my future appointment, so I am sure it is fine. Right?
On and off bathroom fear took over for the next two days and then I was to fly to VA on Friday for the wild bach weekend full of wine-my mind was racing. Called the doctor, calm as ever they said this is totally normal, just relax, take it easy, and let us know if anything changes, you’r OK to go on your trip.
Cool. So now I am going to a wine themed bach party where I can’t drink, because I am pregnant, but also spotting, so it isn’t even a fun secret to keep because it is too scary to be excited.
Disclaimer: No shade is being thrown at any of the individuals referenced in this story. None of anything they said or did was done with malice or intended to be hurtful in any way. But, just keeping it 100 on how I was feeling.
I first texted my flying-mate that I was on antibiotics for a UTI and couldn’t drink, her response, and I quote “Oh. OK Sure. I don’t believe that for a second but alright.” Thankkkkkksssss for starting the weekend with me knowing no one will believe my excuse. Hawt. Then, I proceed to tell her about my trip to Florida and how I had the best margarita ever in “Mexico” at Epcot. I could see her wheels turning like hmm maybe my assumption was wrong. And I thought at least there is a doubt.
First night wasn’t so bad, pizza and drinks at the apartment. Pretty easy to fake a drink and hang like normal there. Alright, I thought, maybe I can survive this. Next day we drive to the hotel and the ginormous limo picks us up for a day of wineries. I told the Sister-In-Law planning the festivities about my antibiotics and she was able to not have to pay for me for all the tastings. This period of time was perhaps the most uncomfortable few hours I have had, mentally.
You see, there is something you should know about me. I have super sonic hearing. I can hear people’s entire conversations on the other side of the room. It is both a blessing and a curse. In this case a curse because I was even more aware of my surroundings. But I saw and heard my friends and acquaintances who were friends of the bride talking about me right in front of my face. “Bullshit antibiotics, she’s pregnant.” “I don’t know this other one said she drank last week.” “I don’t know, I don’t buy it.” Etcetera. It SUCKED. The thing is, I would want nothing more to have been for real pregnant, to have had an ultrasound, to have known it was fine, and then please talk all you want about me and why you think I am not drinking. But in that moment, and given what I had already been through, it was a nightmare.
The rest of the afternoon was fine, more of the same, but whatever, nothing I could do about it. And I love these people so I wanted to try and enjoy my time with them. But all the while I wasn’t drinking, I was also going to the bathroom and still seeing spotting, so never convinced all was ok. We went back to a hotel room for take out and drinks before the bars, I paid the sister in law for the wineries, and when I confirmed the lower price since I didn’t indulge, she winked at me and said “that’s fine mama”. It literally stabbed me in the heart, because I hoped she was right, but it just made me so uneasy, and wishful, and sad.
The bars after a day of wineries were quite a site to be seen. Bonus to not drinking, you get to witness all the tomfoolery and actually remember it. At one bar one of my liquored up ladies, came up to me, bevvied-up and brazen and said “I know I’m not supposed to ask you this but I am anyway, are you pregnant?” And I had absolutely no keeping-it-cool left in me. So I started balling and had to go hide in the bathroom. I cried because I was embarrassed by the whole experience that day, but mostly because I honestly didn’t know how to answer that question. Technically, yes. But in my heart of hearts my real gut answer was “Yes, but not for long.” Unfortunately in this case, my gut is usually right. So I basically ran away and said yeah you really aren’t supposed to ask that.
**Also, did I mention about 1/3 of the attendees at this bach party were leaving the wineries to go pump in the limo? Yeah seriously. I mean more power to them, do your thang ladies. But it is weird in that moment to really wish you had a reason you had to hook your boob up to a machine with them, but you don’t. Yet. So it was just salt in the wound. Anyway, moving on.**
Next morning we are headed back to MA, we stop at the super swanky establishment, Waffle House, for a gourmet breakfast. Right before leaving there and heading about two hours back to the city to the airport I run to the bathroom and this time there was no longer spotting, I knew it was over (I’ll spare you the gory details).
I got into the car and just lost it with three of my friends in there, some of whom had no idea what the heck was going on. They wanted to pull over, but I begged them to keep driving because at that point I just wanted to be home so bad. In between sobs I told them what was going on and that was why I was acting so weird. It was a very quiet and awkward car ride.
I then had to fly 3 hours back to Boston while in horrendous pain and emotionally defeated. When I finally got back to my apartment I just went to the bathroom and sat on the toilet crying for like two hours with my husband sitting on the bathroom floor trying to console me.
It was truly the worst. All the circumstances before, during, and after this debacle exacerbated all the awful feelings I was already having. The actual worst part was that I wanted to have fun that weekend, hoped my friend whose party it was didn’t notice I wasn’t all there. I spent all of my energy trying to make sure she had the best time and was not distracted by my sober-emotional-wreckness. I wished I could have enjoyed it more with all my people, I really tried. But it was just too much to ask of myself at that moment. I did my best.
Regardless of the style of bachelorette or even just social function in general, I know my trying-mamas-to-be are with me in the struggle to try and be part of the fun while also not actually partaking in the fun. But I promise you, friends and fam, we are trying! We are with you celebrating, but there is a piece of our brains that is all over the place! And if I can give you one piece of advice, it is (no offense please), just shut up. If you think someone’s excuse is bullshit, just let them be. Because it is weird, and you don’t know the details, so just shut your pie hole, drink your wine, and let them drink their club soda with lime in peace! 🙂