I'd sworn off taking pregnancy tests. I had already spent a lot of money on them and the disappointment seemed to grow exponentially with each negative sign that I'd discover month after month, equal parts "are you KIDDING me," and "there's gotta be something wrong." I found myself spending the time I usually dedicated to online shopping used for researching fertility treatments.
|...he was having a hard time with the camera remote... I was too excited we were taking this picture to care...|
I've always been irregular. (Is this TMI? It might be. You're welcome to stop reading if it is...) Having a period come late (a day, or even a week) isn't a big deal for me. So when I was late, I firmly scolded my heart to stop fluttering, and insisted that my nerves not get excited or hopeful. This had happened before, and unfortunately was more than likely to happen again.
I stocked up on tampons and waited, annoyed, for the inevitable discomfort. I bought chocolate and pastries (to be honest though, I probably would've done that anyway). I rented something from redbox; I don't remember which film it was. Three more days passed, and even thought I'd promised myself to wait no less than two weeks past my expected period date, I grabbed a cheap test, and defeatedly took it, knowing deep in my gut it would be negative.
It wasn't. It was positive. Like, really dark and positive. An undeniable plus, but I refused to celebrate, scrambling through my bathroom cupboards to find one of the expensive tests (you know, the ones that spell it out for you and cost as much as a semi-decent pair of shoes...). I scrounged up as much leftover pee as I could and took the second test.
It took less than 10 seconds to give me the answer.
I felt like the whole bathroom was applauding me. My shampoo, conditioner and body wash, my toothbrush and deodorant; the tampons I'd recently purchased and all of the other weird things that are in bathrooms cheered, throwing invisible confetti and streamers at me as I smiled and sniffled quietly. It probably sounds dumb and pathetic. I don't care. My bathroom products are incredibly supportive.
The story of my telling gid the news deserves it's own post so I'll spare you the details today (stay tuned-- there's a video!), but I'll tell you the obvious- he was as excited as I was.
We chose to wait until we were a few weeks into the second trimester to share the news with our families, and about a month before the third trimester to share it on social media. I can't tell you what lovely responses of encouragement and support we've gotten from friends and family. So many little love notes sent privately to let us know we've been thought of.
It's crazy how invisible you can feel until you don't; even if it's only for a moment.
And I'm not talking about Facebook.
I wrote this post a while ago, and several months later gathered the courage to release it for everyone to see. Even after we realized we were expecting my heart still ached when I returned to it. Isn't it wild how memories take you right back to the slump (or high!) you were in? I think I've finally given myself permission to just be happy and excited about the future.
That's kind of a big deal for me lately.
I can't believe how lucky we are.
That's all for now, friends.
Thanks so much for reading.