Panic: I'm having a WHAT?!?!

So, I set up this blog with the intention of providing a centralized resource for many of the logistical questions that arose in my babymaking process. However, I'm going to take a little detour today from talking about inseminations and sperm banks, and instead focus on the unexpected moment of abject terror that is apparently common in early pregnancy. The moment when, after months of agonizing, emotional attempts at conception, you realize...

OH MY GOD, I'M HAVING A BABY.

I imagine that this sense of panic is normal for women who didn't mean to get pregnant. After all, even if you're in a stable and secure relationship, an unexpected pregnancy changes everything. And of course, for those people who simply fell victim to a faulty condom in a one-night stand, well, we've all seen "Knocked Up." There's certainly plenty of justification for tears and fears there.

However, my own panic surprised me, precisely because this baby has been SO planned, SO intentional. I mean, I started making preparations for this a year before I received my first shipment of sperm. Long before I had inseminated, I had already started researching diapers, baby slings, and day care options. I've had a list of names going for months now. There's a FERTILITY ALTAR in my apartment, and let me tell you, I hate all that new-agey crap. But that's how much I wanted this baby. I was willing to try anything.

And finally, after one miscarriage, six rounds of inseminations, lots of tears, and $6,500 worth of sperm, I've gotten what I wanted: those thrilling double lines on the pregnancy test. So, why do I still feel like crying?

The answer, I think, is complicated.

First of all, of course, there's a certain level of hormonal fluctuation in pregnancy that makes a person...well, perhaps less than fully rational. While I haven't started crying at kleenex commercials yet, I did get a little teary over an episode of "Law and Order" the other night. This is normal, and I'm trying to take it all with a grain of salt.

Second, and more importantly, is my sudden understanding of how everything in my life is about to change. Now, I'm not stupid. Obviously, it occured to me before getting pregnant that indeed, everything in my life would change. And yet, it seemed so abstract in a way, so removed from my actual life. Now though, the reality of what it means to a single parent is beginning to dawn on me. Sleep? Free time? Pleasure reading? Money? Vacation? Sex? Will I ever have any of these things again?

And then, there's the bitterest seed: I'm becoming a single parent, but I'm not really single. I have a girlfriend. A girlfriend I love. A girlfriend who is, at best, ambivalent about this pregnancy. And of course, I don't blame her. She didn't sign on for this - her vision of kids is still years off, cushioned by a stable, committed partnership and enough fiscal security to hire a nanny. A totally reasonable vision. Just not the one I've chosen to pursue. And so, the stakes are high: this baby may indeed cost me one of the most important relationships in my life.

On top of all this is the fact that I am currently 4 and a 1/2 weeks pregnant, which means that, given the high risk of miscarriage in the first trimester, it is still by no means certain that I'm actually going to have a baby. I have now passed the point at which I lost my last pregnancy, which is a great relief. However, I still have a good 8 weeks before I'm out of the woods, and that makes it hard to let myself get truly excited about this new life. And so, afraid to let myself feel the excitement of the process, I am instead just sitting around in the terror and panic.

And that, my friends, is a scary and uncomfortable place to be.