When I moved to Dallas almost a year ago I decided to get off of birth control as a means of eliminating one “required” medication that I didn’t deem necessary anymore given the fact that I had been abstinent for over 6 months with absolutely no prospects to change that. Talk about a run-on sentence.
You see, I have an endocrine disease called Prolactinoma (read more on that here, it’s got some super dope side effects…). Nothing really to panic about, but it causes some embarrassing… issues… and also (temporarily/permanently) delays ability to conceive because the disease tricks your body into believing it is already pregnant when it most certainly is not. I’m every doctor’s worst nightmare in that I neeeeeever take my medications regularly because I either don’t feel like it or I’m too irritated with the side effects (mainly nausea for me).
Taking into consideration my Proclactinoma, I just didn’t feel it was imperative that I take birth control either. I mean, why would I? It would be “practically impossible” for me to become pregnant. Not to mention, I also consistently carry an extra layer of blub in mah tummy due to my love affair with wine and thought that eliminating the pill would help alleviate a bit of the “fluff” in my mid-section. Win-win, right?! Alas, I continued to carry on with my super-soft mid-section and didn’t really see a difference from the lack of BC… but a girl’s gotta try, right?
Fast forward 9 months (ironic, I know) and the 4th of July rolled around. My PIC (partner-in-crime) and I decided to have a party at my apartment pool as a failed attempt to have a “casual” celebration of America’s independence from Great Britain. If you drink, you know casual day drinking by the pool always ends a bit more special than initially intended… if you don’t drink, keep it that way… at least when it comes to poolside drinking 😉
I had met and been speaking with an English boy a couple of months prior to the party and thought this would be a great opportunity to hang out in a group setting. Fast forward a handful of hours…
….and that was that. My year+ of abstinence came to an end. Whoopsie. That was an aggressive move (thank you, 12-pack of Truly Spiked & Sparkling Soda; DISCLAIMER: Alcohol can impair judgement).
I really don’t respond favorably when I make out-of-character decisions such as this, so my sweet friend Brandi let me crash her date night with her and her man the following day in order for me to not be alone with my anxiety. After dinner, the three of us did the walk of shame to Walgreens to get me a Plan B pill “just in case.” Now those are good friends!
A few weeks later I had decided to quit my job in Dallas, move back to Austin in the interim, and was then planning to move in with my girl Hilary Rose in Charleston, SC. I got back to Austin and had been suffering from, for lack of TMI, some pretty severe stomach ailments over the course of a few weeks. Not to mention I was so tired every day I could not hold my eyes open. And of course I thought the fatigue was from being so ill for so many weeks. I was certain I was dying of some sort of rare disease stemming from salmonella (or worse) that it never crossed my mind it could be something else. Death was imminent. But naturally I would not go to the doctor.
Ever heard the phrase “Mother knows best.”? Well, mother did know best. My sweet mama casually suggested that I take a pregnancy test as I was going to sleep in my misery one evening. I wrote her off and didn’t bring it up again the next day. I had taken Plan B within 24 hours… there was no way.
Mom brought it up again the next day while we were getting a pedicure. I begrudgingly agreed to stop by CVS and get a test on the way home. I bought the cheapest one I could find because I just knew it was going to be a waste of my money.
Took the thing home, peed, and it immediately was positive. Still rationalizing in my mind I thought “well maybe this is because my hormone levels are already so off and as high as a pregnant person’s…. that’s gotta be it.” So I went downstairs and reported my theory to my mother who then suggested (and somehow held her tongue against calling me out on my inability to accept what was happening) that I go to the doctor to take a blood test. Two hours later I had my answer. I was estimated to be exactly as many weeks pregnant as the calendar date was from the 4th of July.
No words can really describe the plethora of feelings that come along with the news of a surprise pregnancy.
Thoughts included, but were not in any way limited to:
Where do I live (I clearly wasn’t moving to Charleston anymore)? How do I tell him? OMG I haven’t been doing anything right. Is the baby okay? How will I be okay? I don’t have a job. I can’t afford this. I can’t do this. How could this have happened (I took Plan B within 24 hours)?
I’m now living in Dallas’ West End with my English baby daddy, who thankfully enough, turned out to be a wonderful person. The obstacles of starting a relationship post-pregnancy are endless, but he’s been a saint through the entire process and I couldn’t be more grateful for how everything has unfolded.
It’s been an extremely challenging past few months with many more to come, but I’ve finally got my ducks in a row and am excited for my lil’ bundle of joy!
Every woman’s unexpected pregnancy story is unique and I am so grateful for the consistent love and support I’ve received along my journey. What needs to be remembered is a lot of women do not have such fortunate a circumstance as I have. Going through with an unplanned pregnancy is certainly not the easier of choices we women have, and I have the utmost respect for every women out there who has found herself in a similar situation.
It’s too easy for outsiders to judge or form an opinion on someone becoming pregnant outside of a marriage, but the truth is, it can happen to anyone who is sexually active. In my circumstance, the first time I had sex in over a year I got pregnant, when it was designated “practically impossible” for me to become pregnant. You just never know. So shout out to all you mama’s out there – you are stronger than you know!!
Thank you for taking the time to stop by the blog and read up on my story! Whether you’re here to hate or here to support, I appreciate you caring enough to hear me out.
Much more of the story to come…
A BIT OF INFO ABOUT “PLAN B”
One of the biggest shocks of my pregnancy was finding out just how Plan B Emergency Contraception “works.” The drug is advertised often as “the next day abortion pill” as well as a 95% effective option when your alternative contraceptive fails or you simple have not used protection. This is entirely false.
What the drug does is dose you with an extreme amount of Levonorgestrel which is a synthetic form of Progestin. What this does is stop the release of the egg from the ovary during ovulation ideally until sperm has died (within 72 hours) IF AND ONLY IF THE EGG HAS NOT ALREADY DROPPED. If your egg has already dropped the drug is in no way effective and pregnancy will continue as normal. Therefore, the only time that the drug is actually effective as advertised (or even worth using for that matter) is 2-3 days prior to your ovulation.
As I’ve shared my story with friends, family, co-workers, etc I’ve heard endless stories about women becoming pregnant after having used Plan B with the understanding that it works as advertised. Mind you, I could not be more thankful about my pregnancy, but I just want to spread the word to others so that they may be aware of what this drug actually does. Which is not what it is advertised to do.