Excuse Me?

***Original date this post was written: February 5th. Keep this in mind as you read. In addition, there are about 12 more blogs posts I've written over the last two months (which I haven't posted here yet) documenting my experience. I will be posting new ones daily, so check back often if you'd like to hear the whole story up till now!***

I have been surviving on bananas, crackers, applesauce, and ginger ale. Oh, and the occasional bean burrito (weird?). I'm grateful for the afternoon of buffalo wings, french fries, and celery with ranch-- didn't expect that one would work out too well. This often constant queasiness has altered my life and mental state in a way that is really, really tiring.
Sounds like the last dregs of the stomach flu, doesn't it?
I wish!...Or do I?

So. It turns out I have been housing a little life inside of me. Completely unplanned, completely by surprise. When we found out, I was already 6 weeks  into this weird-ass experience... Maybe that offends you but it is the most succinct way to describe how I feel about this right now. I will go into more detail about my emotional and mental state in a later post-- but now for the really interesting part:
My body goes into physical over-drive and things get a little "late" when I am in serious training if you know what I mean. For those who aren't familiar with my current lifestyle/career, I have been training pretty intensely in ballet for the last month or so, rehearsing for Damn Yankees with Performance Now Theatre Company, and also preparing for some theater auditions on the side.

Jessica and I in the studio

 So I wasn't worried (just annoyed with the constant PMS symptoms that had been going on for at least 3 weeks). Until Casey mentioned how "late" I was during a conversation in which I was complaining about said PMS symptoms. Which is not in his character for him to mention, and it made me really stop and think. So I went to buy a pregnancy test at Walgreens.
Out of my normal ballet class taking, grocery shopping, musical rehearsing, dance teaching day, appeared one of those new-fangled pregnancy tests that say "not pregnant" or "pregnant" and also tell you how many weeks you are. I spotted it on the shelf among the others. I thought they were kinda cool (totally wasn't worried at all), bought a a couple, came home. Did what I had to do, came out into the living room, checked Facebook for the obligatory 3 minutes, and went back to check (still wasn't worried).
I picked up the stick. Then I got the shock of my life: "Pregnant: 2-3."

(NOT MY ACTUAL TEST-- but identical results)

The "2-3" means weeks. Unless they means seconds until my brain and heart literally paused in utter and complete shock.
EXCUSE ME?!?
You see, this REALLY REALLY wasn't planned. At all. I have been planning on finishing the Ballet Ariel season up (I was slated to perform Lilac Fairy in early March) and hoping to perform  in at least a couple musicals in the next several months. Casey is right in the middle of studying for another CPA exam and very busy indeed. We weren't even going to begin discussing the idea of babies until at least six months from now. So you can imagine my reaction.
I somehow miraculously got into my doctor that same day, and she confirmed the utterly unbelieveable news. I am pregnant.
One of my best friends told me, "It is a total and complete paradigm shift." I have begun to understand this more and more over the past few weeks. It affects everything-- physically, mentally, emotionally, financially, and basically everything else that involves anything I'm used to in my life. And the kid is still just about 1.14 cm long (at about 8 weeks-- the test was a little off, although the day I took it I was around 6 weeks pregnant already).
Stay tuned for the next blog post, in which I will still be talking about how un-freaking-believable (and admittedly, kind of cool and exciting) this is.