Oh reality. Just like the brisk, bitter winds we're experiencing in the area, reality has a way to smack you in the face. Hard.
While I've already had my first, honest "Oh this thing growing inside of me is a real live baby that I have to push out of me and then take care of until my dying day" reality check, I've yet to be confronted by a reality check about the life altering nature of our yet-to-be-born baby.
Until last week.
The scene was simple. The scenario, harmless. Finished with my glucose tolerance test, I was driving back home from St. Elizabeth, the hospital and health care provider we've chosen as our place of baby delivery. Happy that I FINALLY got to eat after fasting for 12 hours (Pure torture for a pregnant woman, let me tell you!), I comfortably ambled along the middle of a three lane road when ALL OF A SUDDEN! a student driver nearly took my front left side out with a non-looking lane change. I reacted with an anxious haste, cranking my steering wheel with mitten-clad hands into the lane to my right to avoid what would have been a giant, super bummer of an accident.
My blood pressure returning to its statis, I exhaled while signaling back into my original lane of almost-death while slowing to adhere to a red light. The culprit's white sedan idled to my left and I couldn't help but look over to see exactly what my almost assassin looked like.
The poor kid. The amount of panic and terror expressed on his face stamped my heart with a force that I couldn't help but recognize and pity. He was obviously freaked the hell out by his failure to look while changing a lane. Even with my turn-on-a-dime hormones and emotions, I couldn't muster any anger or verbal streams of choice words to throw his way. The incident just made me want to comfort him with compassionate words and advice:
"It's okay dude. You're new, you're learning. Now you won't do it ever again." Of course, in this scenario he knows I'm pregnant, ensuring the knowledge that he could have killed TWO innocent people at once doubly freaks him out, doubly assuring that he'll never make the mistake again (That's my dramatic imagination for you).
That's when the reality hit me: I'm going to be a parent. A real live, actual parent. One of those individuals who raised me with patience and unconditional love. A person responsible for the happiness, well-being and health of an incredibly helpless little human being.
As this realization weighed upon me like my baby on my full bladder, I continued my drive home in deep thought, trying to understand what this all means and exactly how much of a change this will have on my life, on Jason's life and on our life as a married couple. As semis passed me at roaring speeds and I almost automatically took the necessary exits to get home, I couldn't help but admit that I have NO idea what I'm getting myself into. Zero. Zip. Nada.
In the past, being confronted with such a vast endeavor into the unknown would paint the same expression of fear and anxiety the student driver wore upon my own face. But, and maybe this is one of the few good side effects of hormones, for some reason I'm not scared. I'm actually excited to step blindly into this never-ending adventure. I've got an amazing partner who's on the same page as I am, whose values line up with mine and who possesses the ability to make me laugh when I'm taking life too seriously (which, if you know me well enough, is basically all the time). Moreover, I've got myself, complete with my sanity, a problem-solving brain, creative mind and ability to make a delicious comfort meal whenever it's needed. So, even though I go on uncontrollable bouts of hormonal crying three times a week right now, I'm a pretty strong ally to have.
And to that realization, I'd like to thank the kid who didn't look right when he was changing lanes. Good luck on your driver's test little buddy. I'm afraid you might need it.
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