What to Expect When You're NOT Expecting

December 15, 2010, By John Cave Osborne 9 comments

When my wife and I first got married, there was no question that we wanted to have a child. However, that’s exactly what I wanted—a child. Caroline? She wanted two.

Turned out she was carrying the number we both wanted. Combined. Which, of course, tabled our debate. Thanks to my stepdaughter, the triplets meant a second, third and fourth child. And the only fifth we were interested in was in our liquor cabinet. You know, to occasionally calm the nerves which four kids were sure to rattle.

But you know what? Things really haven’t been that bad. And the mid-morning snooze I enjoyed recently was proof of just that.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t leaving my wife alone with all four kids. Our oldest was at her dad’s, so that just left the triplets. And being the selfless guy I am, I was watching two of them.

What’s that? Oh, the mid-morning snooze? Right. I was actually multi-tasking via a controversial but effective supervisory technique known as sleep-parenting. I, um, read about it. In a book. Or magazine. Somewhere.

Anyway, there I was, minding my own business, sleep-parenting on the comfy blue couch in the bonus room, with Sam and Kirby playing contently nearby (and quietly—which is crucial for sleep-parenting), when Jack stumbled in with the phone.

“Call Mommy,” he said.

Puzzled, I dialed Caroline’s cell wondering what in the world was behind her unusual request.

“Honey,” she began from the kitchen downstairs, “I’ve been obsessing over something.”

“What’s that?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Record scratch.

“We need to go pick up a pregnancy test,” she continued.

“Hell no,” I answered, still trying to catch my breath. “WAY too much drama for a Sunday. Not gonna happen, girl.”

Twenty minutes later, my candy-ass was double parked in a blue handicapped zone outside of Walgreens while Caroline was busy rummaging through the family-planning aisle. Only we were planning no such thing, or at least no further expansion to our existing one.

What’s that saying, again, y’all? Something about making God laugh? Telling Him about your plans, or something?

It’s been nearly five weeks since that fateful morning, and I’m happy to say that Caroline and I have finally gotten our hands around the shocking news. I’m actually thinking about writing another book, though quite different from my previous one, which was a memoir. This effort would be more like a manual, telling poor saps like Caroline and me what they can expect. You know, the old, tired, pregnant and surprised types?

It’s still early, but we’ve gotten through a critical part of Caroline’s unexpected pregnancy which I’ve identified as the Initial Wave. And, just in case you’re in our boat, or know someone who is, I’ve outlined the five different stages of that Initial Wave below.

Shock

Confirming a pregnancy is always shocking. Even if it was planned. I mean, every parent has been there, right? That out-of-body feeling you get when you see the pregnancy test result? It’s, well, shocking. But, if you’re specifically not expecting, the shock is accompanied with something else.

Denial

I believe my exact words were “There’s no <expletive deleted> way.” 

So what, aside from profanity, does the denial stage encompass? Approximately four boxes of pregnancy tests and a neurotic debate on whether or not that super-faint “second line” is actually a line or some strange, random and perfectly straight occurrence of soft pink light. The remedy for this, incidentally, is to go to your brother-in-law’s house and demand that his wife, who is most certainly not pregnant, take the same pregnancy test, which she eventually (and reluctantly) did. And her negative result had no such debatable line. Which meant no more denying.

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