I have never had so much trouble believing something to be true as I did when I found out I was pregnant.
We started trying in August. September rolled around and my period came, a few days early. I didn't expect to get pregnant right away. I knew it could be months, or even years. Yet when that spotting showed up I felt a strange disappointment and I went into the bedroom with a pouty face to tell my husband that we weren't pregnant yet.
But this time my period was weird. I used to have a very predictable pattern: The first day or two was light spotting. Then the second or third day it was like a faucet that wouldn't turn off and I'd have to pop Midol all day just to hold that "I got hit by a truck" feeling at bay. Thankfully I would only endure one or two days of that, and then I'd feel human again. But my period would last for no less than 7 days.
This time day 4 of my period came and I realized it was already coming to an end. And that I never had that day of hell on day 2. I think deep down I knew right at that moment. So I called my mom for reassurance, and it was during this conversation she let me know that she was always able to get pregnant really easily. She said it was like she'd just think it, and bam- she'd be preggo. Now, I have no idea if this sort of thing is hereditary, but I was thinking that this would have been good information to have before we started trying.
So I bought a test. And I told my husband. And I called my best friend to let her know I was taking the test. And then I peed on the stick. And before I could even leave the bathroom to wait out the 2 minutes it was already showing that Big Fat Positive.
The emotional roller coaster I rode that night was insane. Then I woke up in the morning and disbelief set in. I had barely been tracking my periods! I didn't time our sexy times for when I knew I was ovulating! I really had no clue when I was ovulating! I knew there was only a 20% chance of getting pregnant every month. This couldn't have happened so quickly. I had to buy another test, "just to be sure". And sure enough I was still pregnant.
That weekend we were out of town staying with my best friend and her husband. It was a tortuous weekend with my stomach full of knots feeling anxious about being pregnant and at the same time still not really believing it could be true. Oh, and I had to watch everyone drink while I sat alone in my misery.
It was a 5 hour drive home during which I made my husband crazy with my incessant worrying. Am I REALLY pregnant? What if I lost the baby already? Until finally, an hour from home, I made him stop in a town so I could buy yet another pregnancy test. Actually, I bought a pack of two. Then I made him stop at a Tim Horton's so I could take the test in the washroom. Yes, it was completely insane. And yes, I knew it was insane. And no, I didn't care. And for the third time, I was still pregnant. I never did end up taking the fourth test, although I did carry it around with me for a few months like a weird little plastic security blanket.
To quote J.D. Salinger (although I don't have a hot clue who that is)- "All mothers are slightly insane". And the day I took that third test I knew that to be true. I also realized that this was just the beginning of a long road of insanity where the further I traveled the crazier I'd probably get. But only 5 months in since the birth of my son and I also already know that every single step is worth it.
No comments:
Post a Comment