Who Knew?

You know that moment when you actually say something out loud to another person and realize you’ve been thinking it for a while but never really knew? That totally happened last week. And I was shocked at what I was revealing about myself.

I’ve been spending some serious quality time at the dermatologist lately. My pale Irish skin alabaster complexion is starting to show its weaknesses, as is the stupidity of my youth and its ensuing effect on my use of sunscreen. New moles, new sunspots and a few dicey weeks earlier this year when I thought I had skin cancer and so did my doctor. Insert public service announcement here: put on the god damn sunscreen. DAILY.

So, in the wee hours of the morning, I found myself once again, naked, sitting in the office as Dr. Derm checked every single inch of my body for any new development, taking photos of every abnormality, so she can compare it to the next time I show up. Every woman’s dream: blatant nudity in hospital lighting paired with a camera. No, this is not a bad porn, this is my life.

Remarking on my skin, she asked if I took birth control (as it helps with breakouts). “No, I went off of it about a year ago” I said to her. “Oh, really?” she inquired, “are you thinking about starting a family?”… Yes, of course, with my imaginary boyfriend. He’s very supportive.

“Uh, no…” I said, “it was just screwing with my hormones a little too much” noting how at one point I felt like I was going to switch off between screaming and crying in meetings and I didn’t think that was a smart career move. She chuckled a bit as she continued to examine me and then before I even knew what I was saying, I said to her “I mean, at this point, I’m 33 years old. If I get knocked up, I get knocked up”.

We both laughed and then I realized… I was serious. I am 33 years old. I have a job. I have a two-bedroom apartment. I have a respectable income. And if I got pregnant, I’d have a baby. I wouldn’t have drinks on Tuesday nights anymore or shop to the ridiculous extent I do now (or at all, probably) but I’d make it work.

And in that moment I realized that I had known that for a while. I had known that if one day one of those very relied upon methods of keeping stuff from happening failed and I ended up with a double line on a stick, I’d just deal.

And I’d be a-okay.

I think I’m really a grown-up now. It’s not as terrifying as I’d imagined.