Christ on a cracker.

I'm a well educated woman. I essentially skipped my last two years of high school and finished my undergraduate degree when I was only 18.

I had my MBA before I could legally buy alcohol.

I finished law school at 23.

I work for a high profile law firm and negotiate multi-million dollar contracts on a regular basis.

Annnnnd... I apparently can't fucking read the directions that go with my birth control pill.

Patrick and I had a few rounds of unprotected sex before my "back in the saddle" 6 week check up (which I actually had at 7 or 8 weeks postpartum). I had a pregnancy test in the office, and it was... negative.

White as snow. I assumed it would be.

So, because I'm breastfeeding, they put me on the mini pill so as not to interfere with milk production. Great. Fabulous. The nurse was in a hurry, they were closing early that Friday and she shooed me out with the prescription.

With my bouncing bundle of screaming infant buckled safely in the backseat of the car - (inside his Maxi-Cosi seat which I incidentally hate and can't wait for him to grow out of) the pharmacist asked me if I had any questions when I picked up my prescription.

Nope, no questions. Just hand over the pills lady. Mind you, I took the pill for years (and actually got pregnant while taking it TWICE at age 19). And that kind of luck makes you REALLY careful about taking the pill on time every day.

Until, that is - you have a newborn and are battling postpartum depression and are schlepping a baby through the airport more times than you should at his age to get halfway across the country before your closest relative passed away... you know... I would've been pretty vigilant about taking it.

But, you see, I wasn't. I took it haphazardly - forgot a day? No problem, take a double dose the next day. Right? FUCKING WRONG. Apparently you have to take the mini-pill the exact same time every single day to be effective. No skipping doses, to being late... unless you want to be late if you know what I'm saying.

The first week I was on it, I had pretty significant spotting - no surprise as I always had breakthrough bleeding on the pill.

Like the "regular" pill I thought the last week of the mini pill was a placebo. Um, no. Apparently not. So last Saturday when I was supposed to start the last week (and expected my period to show up - since the hormones were apparently wrecking havoc on my body) I ditched the pill pack. Today, well - today's Wednesday and all day I've been trying to not puke all over the place.

I've been wearing white panties all week and well, there's not even the hint of spotting.

I was infertile for five years while married to my ex-husband. Patrick and I weren't exactly being careful but we weren't trying to get pregnant when we conceived Julian. We'd love another child, but um, not yet. Not anytime soon.

I know that because I'm breastfeeding, and at least was taking the minipill somewhat correctly that my chances are lower.

But seriously? This is the first time in a very, very long time that I've worried about being pregnant and desperately not wanted to be.

Ugh. When do I test? When do I start a new pack of pills?

Alive and adapting...

Thank you all for your sweet comments. It's hard to believe that three months will have gone by this Thursday already.

Julian is doing well. He's in the 95th percentile for height, and at his last pediatrician's visit three weeks ago he was already tipping the scales at 13 lbs. Given his usual weight gain, and based on how much he's grown in just those few weeks, I would bet he's close to 15 lbs. now. Right about the two month mark, he started teething. Yep. Teething... at two months. Poor bugger hasn't actually had a tooth break through yet, but you can feel the two middle ones on the bottom coming in. It sucks because he can't hold a teething toy yet, so we've been improvising with frozen washrags and frozen carrots.

We're breastfeeding, though he gets the occasional bottle of formula, especially if we're traveling. While we struggled with it a great deal at first, I started taking Fenugreek and it's helped my supply tremendously (though I do smell a little like a pancake house reject).

He's laughing now, and cooing. About three weeks ago he rolled over for the first time, from his back to his front, and looked at me like hmmm, what was that? It's only happened one other time since then. He loves his bathtime, and tries desperately to convince me to let him go naked (though Jack, one of our cats would be horrified at that considering Jack got nailed in between the eyes during one of our early diaper changes).

We've had a rough three months. I had an emergency trip to Dallas - to see Granny before she passed away. Mind you, this was in the midst of my battling some mild postpartum depression. I struggled to figure out how to care for and what to do with a newborn after Patrick went back to work and I was home alone with the baby all day. While in Dallas I managed to come down with a bladder infection (common post-delivery, it seems) that necessitated a hospital emergency room visit after I had 103 degree fever for three days and developed shaking so much that I couldn't hold the baby. And of course, we had the seemingly never ending stream of baby tourists.

Miraculously, I've lost all 39 lbs of the pregnancy weight, though I'll admit that my body doesn't look anything like it did before I got pregnant. I'm just now starting to go back to the gym, and making a conscious effort to get back in shape. Say what you will about breastfeeding, but I'll say this - it melted the weight off for me. Here's hoping it continues to do so.

I'm still taking pictures and now I'm food blogging as well. I promise I'll do better about updating here. Honestly, there's just so much of the day that I love watching him that I'm finding it hard to get the most basic things finished. Such is life, I guess.

I go back to work exactly 12 weeks from today. Before then, I have to move my mom up (she's coming to live as our paid nanny) and find her a place to live. I'm also in the midst of house renovations ('cause that's a sane thing to do while on leave, no?) and am trying to squeeze every minute out of the day.