A Slight Melt Down

Being one week late for your period when you are on birth control is completely normal. At least, that is what I told myself. I had cramps and sore nipples and had been binge eating chocolate for almost a week. All good signs of a barren pms-ing womb. Right?

But then it happened. It started with soup. While eating a bowl of Ramen (don’t judge), I kept thinking, "why does this taste like metal?" Then a banana. Still metal. Actually, everything I ate tasted like I was chewing on iron. What the hell?

Clearly, I was dying of cancer. I just needed WebMD to verify this fact for me.

Here was what I typed in the Google search bar: “food tastes like metal”

Here was the first thing Google recommended: “food tastes like metal pregnant”

Excuse me? Yeah. It seems metal mouth is one of the early signs of pregnancy. Let the melt down begin…

Sumo Baby: Are you busy?

Me: (sobbing) No. Yes. I’m on my way to the store to get a stick to piss on.
Sumo Baby: What?
Me: I’m late and my mouth tastes like iron.
Sumo Baby: Oh no! Those were my first signs with my daughter. Do your boobs hurt?
Me: Yes!
Sumo Baby: Oh no!
Me: Shit.
Sumo Baby: What will you do?
Me: I don’t know. I have to keep it if I am. I can’t run away either… long story. I guess get on WIC. Find a cheap two bedroom apartment near work. Get fat. Never sleep again. Start eating organic. What else do pregnant people do? Buy a tread mill and throw up a lot? Jesus. I’d make such a terrible mother!
Sumo Baby: No you wouldn’t. I know you don’t want to hear this but I know you. You’d give up your whole life to make your child happy. You’d make an excellent mom.
Me: (wiping tears) Fine. But I don’t want to. It’s too terrifying. I can barely take care of myself. Imagine me with a kid!
Sumo Baby: Stop. You’ll be fine. Just go get your stick and call me back. And quit freaking out!

The car ride home did not go any better. Here was my internal dialogue.

Freaked Out Me (FO Me): How much do diapers cost? Like a million dollars a week? I'm never going to sleep again!

Rational Me: Do they make Star Trek onesies?
FO Me: Nine months with no wine? NINE MONTHS!! NO WINE!!
Rational Me: Maybe a Firefly themed nursery with replica Serenity ship as the crib… hmm.
FO Me: This will destroy my body! I’ll never have a minute alone! I hate the sound of babies crying!!
Rational Me: Maybe I can start eating cheeseburgers again and justify my meat eating as ‘cravings’.
FO Me: Texas? I’m going to raise a child in fucking Texas?! Isn’t that enough of a reason to justify abortion?!
Rational Me: I wonder which cartoons are tolerable nowadays? Is Yo Gabba Gabba still a socially acceptable show for children?
FO Me: They shit and puke everywhere! They require constant attention! My traveling around the world days are over! I will know mommy language! Mommy language for god’s sake!!
Rational Me: I think I will teach this kid to speak Japanese and eat only with chop sticks. Maybe play the violin or build rockets.
FO Me: (sobbing) Children’s books are awful… (still sobbing)

Obviously, since I am writing this blog instead of being curled up in a corner losing my fucking mind, I pissed negative. No baby infestation for this girl. Whew!

You are probably wondering what lesson I learned from this terrifying experience. Well, I learned to trust in the magic powers of the ring, that birth control is awesome, to just be happy when I don’t bleed and that I actually like Yo Gabba Gabba. Weird.

Also, I celebrated by getting wine drunk and having sex. Happy No Baby Day to me!!