Sex and the City - Miranda's Pregnancy Weight (Season 5 Clip)
To be continued...
I wanted to be mother, don't get me wrong. I was getting to that point in life where it becomes clear that things didn't go as planned. I had a (somewhat) great career as the Features Editor of a popular entertainment website in Los Angeles, fabulously hip and fancy friends, a handful of Louboutins in my closet and a hip apartment on the coolest street in America (as designated by GQ magazine) but there were a few things that were missing, most notably, a ring and a kid.
Every time I would log onto Facebook and be greeted with ANOTHER sonogram photo, my heart would sink a little and it dawned on me that I could end up one of those women that are all around Los Angeles: single, successful, in their forties that remain childless and husbandless their entire lives. That really freaked me out.
I knew Jason wasn't Mr. Right, but I was settling for Mr. Right now after a long string of relationship letdowns. We met through a friend when I was in my wee twenties and I thought he was the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen – tall, piercing blue eyes, chiseled cheekbones (did I mention he is a former male model!) – but what Jason offered up in looks, he definitely came up short when it came to everything else, and after a decade of knowing him, he was still a struggling musician and writer and was far from having it together and I was the person he ran to when it all started falling apart.
But this time, he told me, it was different. He really wanted to get his life together and makes things work with us and he promised a thousand times over that he wasn't going to disappear on me ever again. After resisting his advances for a few weeks, I was vulnerable enough during that grey area around the holiday season to sort of fall for it.
For several years my doctors told me that it would be difficult, but not impossible, for me to get pregnant because I had polycystic ovarian syndrome, and that I would most likely have to take fertility drugs to conceive, so although I wasn't out there having unprotected sex on a regular basis, if I did it wasn't the end of the world.
Those beloved period symptoms (sore, swollen breasts, mild cramping, bloating, ravenous hunger, etc) started on cue around the time I usually got my period, which was never really regular but usually fell within a week span. After two weeks of no period, I mentioned it to my friend Sarah at lunch.
"Go get a test, right NOW," she ordered me. "You are totally pregnant."
I laughed it off, but later that night it haunted me in bed. Being pregnant at this stage in my life wasn't fathomable. Even though I wanted to be a mother, I never wanted it to happen like this. I needed the house, the husband and an excess of money. The excitement of the Jason relationship had worn off, and it was clear he wasn't going to conquer his demons anytime soon nor was there a future between us. But at the same time, I could never have an abortion, because I would regret it for the rest of my life.
I started obsessing over the pregnancy possibility but there was no way in hell I could walk into the local CVS and buy a test. If I had a big diamond bauble on my finger, it would be so bad, but the checkout person would take one look at my naked ring finger and I would be branded a whore.
A few nights later I told my friend Susan what was going on.
"Dude. You are totally preggers," she said to me, talking me into splashing down twenty bucks for a test I knew would come back negative.
Seconds after I peed on that little oh-so-dreaded white stick, the elusive second line came streaming down, as if in slow motion, until it came to a halt, completing the double line symbol that every woman inherently knows translates to PREGNANT.
"Congratulations," Susan saluted me. "You are going to be a mother."
A mother? A baby inside of me. Pregnant. It was all so surreal, a scene out of a movie. This was not the way I thought it would happen. Not the way I thought it would feel.
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