What a warm and lovely welcome back I received yesterday! My heart is joyful from the thoughtful texts, emails, and comments regarding pearls on a string’s return. It is just the encouragement I need to get a little real here. Like really.

I’ve thought about how to articulate this post for a while. I was afraid of putting my true thoughts out there. But now, I’m ready (I think). When you’re a woman of a certain age and married, everyone assumes that babies are the next logical step and a welcome step at that. An accidental pregnancy doesn’t seem to belong in the “young married couple” category. One week prior to finding out I was knocked up, I stood high on my soapbox declaring there is no such thing as an accidental pregnancy past the age of 25. I thought people just said that for attention. People know how to use birth control by then, I thought. Oye. Remembering my high and mightiness makes me cringe. It was just seven days after that speech when I realized I was six days late or so. Considering I was still recovering from a savage case of mono I assumed my body was simply out of whack and it was no big deal. After all, my husband and I knew how to use birth control and we certainly used it! Oye again! My husband was at work that Saturday and I was home working on my blog. (Actually, I wrote this post that day. I guess I shouldn’t have eaten the goat cheese.) I decided to take a test to ease my mind and get on with my day. One test quickly turned into eight when that bright + symbol appeared instantly on each one. I sat on the toilet in shock. Pregnancy tests and wrappers littered the bathroom. I went to lie on the couch. Six agonizing hours later Nate came home and became privy to the news as well. “Daaaaaaamn, Charlie” was all he could muster. Seriously, oye.

Over the next weeks and months, I felt extremely guilty to not rejoice in this unexpected news. I withdrew from many people. Obviously, I stopped blogging. I even stopped reading blogs. I no longer felt joy over recipes, decorating, and outfits. I couldn’t get out of my head. I wondered what would happen to my career that I had worked so hard at, would I further my education which was always in the forefront of my mind, would I be a good mother when I have such a complicated relationship with my own, would I turn into one of those women who only talks about her children, would I raise a child across the country from my own family? Was I selfless enough to even be a mother? I’ve known people who struggled for years to conceive. I felt I did not have a right to complain when this happened so effortlessly. My sadness was both due to the unexpected nature of this pregnancy and the debilitating guilt over not wanting it at the time. I’m not strong enough, I thought. I can’t do that. I was a wreck. I mean, I didn’t even want a baby shower.

I s l o w l y grew to accept our new fate as parents when we saw her beating heart for the first time on ultrasound, when my belly began to grow, when we learned we were having a girl (which, by the way, included an entirely different breakdown), and when her kicks reorganized my internal organs. Although I possessed a sense of detachment and referred to the baby as Creature and myself as a Creature Growing Vessel, I began to contemplate nursery décor, take and share belly pictures, and daydream about who she might look like. This was a long process. Clearly I have a disdain for the unexpected (just ask my former coworkers how I reacted to last-minute or tardy patients) and needed to process the events in my own time. Now that she’s well on her way to her first birthday, I’ve finally accepted this little babe and the delight she brings to my life.

My goal here is simply to provide a tiny snippet of insight that may answer the sweet emails I received last year when I stopped writing. And if this happens to catch the eye of someone who has experienced or is experiencing a similar situation, that’s great. It’s important to know we’re not alone. If you’ve ever had a difficult time accepting change or dealing with major unexpected life events, I’d love to hear about it! Let’s swap coping skills.