November 25, 2008


It's Tuesday, that's one week after the date that my period should have arrived. And its been three days since I woke up and peed on an EPT stick to set my mind at ease that things were just out of whack and of course I wasn't really pregnant.

At first, I was reassured because the test was definitely looking negative, but as I sat there looking at it I'll be damned if the thing didn't just get darker and darker every second. I got in the shower, trying to remember from the directions that I thrown away- "now, the plus means not pregnant, right?" Because that makes sense.

After my shower I found an older (okay, it was expired) First Response test and squeezed out enough pee to saturate that one too. It took a while for the wicking action to finish it's work, but eventually my urine managed to climb up far enough to form not one, but two pink lines. Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser indeed.

A couple minutes later I started shaking and panicking hard core. Um, pregnant? Excuse me? But we had agreed that we weren't ready! And yes, I was off my pills, but only for a minute, and we always used protection, every time. Okay, so maybe there was that one time that the thing broke, but I went the next morning for emergency contraception and I followed all the directions and everything. I cannot possibly be pregnant.

Gus was outside mowing the lawn, so I wandered around for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do. Finally I went to the front door in my bathrobe, but I couldn't say anything, so I just motioned for him to come inside. I led him to our bed, where I had put the two positive tests, and I just started to bawl. He immediately folded me up in his arms and just kept saying it would be okay. I told him I was sorry, but he said there was no reason to be sorry. He asked me what I wanted to do. I said "buy another test and try it again tomorrow" because they say that the first morning pee is the best to test, and those ones were clearly old and faulty. Obviously.

Fortunately, we had plans for the afternoon to hang out the local pub and watch the Apple Cup with a friend. It was an excellent distraction, especially because Gus is a Cougar and bleeds crimson and all that. I passed on the brew during the game, not like it would have really mattered considering I had like five the night before, but I hadn't known then what I knew now and I'm not trying to make my baby grow two heads or anything.

So, the next morning, I took my fresh new pee stick out of the box and figured if there was ever a time for the whole "third time's a charm" thing to come in handy, it was now. Two minutes later, another big blue plus was staring up at me.

So here we are, five weeks pregnant with a three week old blob of cells dividing and taking root in my uterus. Of course, it's still early and plenty can happen, but life as we know it has officially changed. We now have 35-ish weeks and counting to figure out how to deal with that. Holy shit.