Two Lines, One Life Change

I’ve been staring at this blank page for three weeks now. How do you write about the moment your entire life changes direction? How do you put into words the feeling of seeing two pink lines when you were expecting one?

Two Lines, One Life Change

I took three tests. Three. Because apparently I needed the confirmation in triplicate to believe what my body was already telling me. I’m 21. I’m in my senior year of nursing school. Marcus and I aren’t married. This was not the plan. This is not how I drew this up in my head when I was 16 and thought I had it all figured out.

The call that changed everything

I called him at work. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely dial. When he answered, all cheerful and ‘hey babe,’ I just blurted it out. ‘I’m pregnant.’ Ten seconds of silence. I counted them. Then: ‘Okay. We’re doing this.’ Not ‘are you sure?’ Not ‘what do we do?’ Just ‘we’re doing this.’ That’s when I knew we actually were.

We’re doing this together

I’m terrified. I won’t lie about that. I have four months left of school and I’m already exhausted most days. I don’t know how to be somebody’s mom. I don’t know if we’re ready for this. But I looked at those two lines and I felt something I didn’t expect. Not just fear. Something else. Something that felt a lot like the beginning of everything.

Processing the beginning of everything