Expedition Everest

So.

In July of 2006 the Husband took me on my first ever trip to Disney World. I have very strong opinions about Disney, but that is a rant for another time and place.

See. The Husband grew up with Disney, they used to go as a family and he LOVED it. He really wanted me to experience his Disney in the hopes that I would love it too. (There were certain things that were pleasant, there were many things that were decidedly unpleasant, but we're getting there.)

We had three days, so we had planned to spend roughly each day in a different park--squeezing two parks in to one day towards the end. We did Epcot with the very cool Land and Water exhibits and the less than cool rather kitschy country exhibits. The Husband took me on Test Track and then Mission Space. Which was maybe the meanest thing he has ever done to me in the whole of our married lives! You have to understand. I am not a roller coaster girl. If it were only very very fast (like Test Track) then I do okay. Mission Space is a giant centrifuge and they spin you until you reach some g-force something or other. I am a wuss. I know. I nearly tossed my lunch and had an indescribable headache afterwards. I literally was ready to abandon him in the park and hold a grudge against him for the next decade. We saw the excellent fireworks that night and the next morning headed to the Animal kingdom thing.

We went on safari and saw a bug's life and did all those things you're supposed to do. We got to go on this very cool ride through a hypothetical dinosaur environment and that was pretty cool. And then. The Husband does not always learn his lesson. He is hard hearted sometimes. He wanted me to go on Expedition Everest--Disney's new ride that takes you up the world's tallest mountain in search of the YETI. Does anyone, rationally, think this sounds like a good idea? Nope. But I love the Husband and I know the Husband loves a roller coaster so I suck it up and take one for the team. We get in line. We stand in line for an hour or more. We finally get up to the hateful thing and they put us in the FIRST car. I look at the Husband and I said (resentfully), "You soooo owe me for this." At which point he grins like a maniac and bounces up and down expecting me to be all excited or something. The car pulls away and up up up we go to this faux Everest.

People please believe me when I tell you that this ride terrified me on so many levels. It is important to understand this point so please don't skim past my abject terror to get on to the funny bits.

The ride takes you up the side of the mountain, inside where it comes to a stop at some broken up tracks (I think it's supposed to indicated that the YETI has been there and torn up the tracks, whatever, the ride itself is frightening enough without adding a YETI into the mix), and then you drop BACKWARDS in a corkscrew spiral drop down the middle of the mountain (and yes, I was in fact crying at this point), you then shoot out of the mountain and around the outside before they drop your petrified a** outside at the gate where you got on. The Husband tells me at some point a YETI also jumped out in the dark but I have no memory of the YETI and I told him that maybe it was while I was wailing in tears.

When I say this ride scared the crap out of me, I am not exaggerating or lying for humor's sake. I am being absolutely serious. I proceeded to sulk and he finally bought me an ice cream in the shape of Mickey Mouse's head (which I ate with relish, only wishing that I could have had blood dripping from the ice cream stick) and then gave me a good back rub later on so I decided to forgive him. Also he was my ride home.

The reason I'm telling you this is that...well, there's an 800 pound gorilla in the room and this roller coaster has become my metaphor for what this past summer has been. The honest truth is that the Husband and I are pregnant...well, more me than the Husband. (I know. It's all very exciting news, I'll wait while you all celebrate...and dear Whimsy, you can let out that breath you've been holding because you've done great keeping our secret.)

See. When I wrote this, I never really thought I'd be a mother either. I'm just not one of those women that aches for children. It's not me. Maybe because I'm a youngest child or something. But then I thought of my cats, and dude, I know it's totally supreme dorky of me, but I LOVE my cats and I thought, they're just cats. If I love them as much as I do, then how much will I love a child?

I am a big ol' chicken. Big. Chicken. Once upon a time I used to be fearless and then something happened, I'm not sure what, but I learned how fragile life can be and I just got scared. Scared of screwing things up, scared of failure, scared of...loss. For a long time I didn't want to have children because I didn't want to screw them up. I didn't want to fail at motherhood. I didn't want to face losing this child that you work so hard for and sacrifice so much for...and yet. We grieve much because we love much. And we can hold people and things and life at arms distance but then we never love or are loved and well, what's the point?

So the Husband and I got in that big line waiting to get on this crazy roller coaster thing called pregnancy. I was scared scared scared. I cried. a lot. And 4 weeks ago when that second pink line showed up I crawled back in to bed sweet bed and into the Husband's arms and told him that the car was pulling away from the station and going up the big mountain and I was sacred scared scared. and I cried. and he kissed my back and said, "It's okay. You've got me and I won't leave you."

I'll be honest. I'm afraid of pregnancy. I'm afraid what my body is going to become. I'm afraid of having this wee helpless thing to take care of. I'm afraid of failure and screwing up. I'm trying to have faith that somehow, some way, excepting the laws of physics things will work out okay in the end. And in the end, I am blessed with the Husband. With amazing women who remind me that my body was made to do this...that from great sacrifice comes great beauty.

So. Now you know. This has been the 800 pound gorilla in the room. The Husband wanted to wait until we were 12 weeks along, but well, the families know. The friends know. The bosses know. I may as well tell you, right?

So deep breath. Here we go.