One Year Ago, Part 2

11 Aug

The stick had been peed upon

(seriously, why isn’t there a nicer way to say it?)

and the verdict was in.

Except, it wasn’t,

exactly.

My husband and I studied the E.P.T.

(seriously, why is it called “Error Proof”. I would call this “Easily Error-able”)

mulling over the one dark line

next to the other faint line.

Now, from all of my reading,

a line is a line is a line,

no matter how faint.

So, I did what any responsible young-adult would do in that situation:

I texted my mom (remember, it was 6am on a Saturday).

Her response?

“Mazel Tov”.

Still, I couldn’t believe it.

I didn’t tell a soul (besides, you know, my husband, but he already knew,

and my mom, duh,

and Lola and Ziggy, but they don’t speak English).

I just spent the rest of the day eating, and sleeping, and sleeping, and protecting my tummy from the elements, and sleeping.

I so knew.

I just couldn’t let myself believe it.

And so,

the very next morning,

still unable to sleep,

I crept back into the bathroom,

peed on yet another little white stick,

and said a prayer.

Yet again,

a second, faint line appeared.

Come. On.

And so, unable to grapple with this uncertainty for any longer,

I had my husband pack us up

(what? I couldn’t do any heavy lifting in my condition….if I was in a condition, that is)

and take us home,

so that I could show my parents the pregnancy test.

Okay, now, I get it. I’m not normal. This has been established from the get-go. But, there are just some times that a girl needs her mom and dad.

So, we hurried home, test in hand (or in suitcase. Ew!)

to get a second opinion.

My parents were convinced. Preggo, I was.

Except, I still didn’t buy it.

Not totally.

I needed real proof. I needed a bloodtest. But, it was Sunday. And so, I’d have to drag myself in to the doctor’s office the next day,

to get the real confirmation that I had been waiting for.

Little did I know that getting this assurance wouldn’t be quite as easy as I would have hoped…

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