Here goes, recounted details of D-day (or pee-day) or Day 1 as I like to call it. Day 1, meaning the first day I found out and potentially Day 1, of Part III, of Chapter two of my life. Or something like that. Anyways point being, world turned upside down.
I’ve watched countless movies about pregnancy, being a mother, and all things babies – but have always looked on with the same detached amusement I have watching an explosion-filled action movie – curious, entertained, and never imagining myself in that situation in a million years. But in far less time than a million years, a series of life events happened – graduating college, work, marriage, more work – and I all of a sudden found myself giggling nervously while peeing on a stick, and actually hoping for a positive result instead of fearing it.
Sitting at the end of our bed and waiting the dreaded five minutes for the test results, a lot of things flashed through my head, the first being the image of what a negative test result should look like, now bored into my brain from the countless times I had cradled it in my hands screaming YES! to the heavens with sighs of relief. But what was I supposed to be picturing now that I wanted the opposite? One solid purple vertical line was the norm. Solid, unwavering, fuchsia on a sea of white means no baby. So color me confused when I picked up the test and my results showed a faded pinkish vertical line and, if I stared really closely, a faint horizontal line. These were highly unusual results so logically I could have concluded that yes, I was pregnant. But with news of this nature I had to be sure. The husband and I stared at the test for a good twenty minutes – me stating the facts of past experiences and showing and re-reading box instructions several times before we finally decided to make a midnight run to the pharmacy down the street.
Make-up free and in my pajamas, I scoured the rows of available tests at the store like a hawk. We had a goal this time – pregnant or not, NO INCONCLUSIVE RESULTS. I picked up several tests that I quickly put back, one of which showed a smiley face for positive or a plain blank circle for negative. What if I got a smiley face with a half a smile and one eye? A smirking winking face would definitely be the end of me. We ended up going with a digital test, which promised a trusty YES or NO response – fool proof. We almost purchased a $50 test that looked like a chemistry set (complete with gloves?), but came to our senses and got the mid-range $25 one – I had to be convinced not to buy ten of them.
Fast forward thirty minutes later and VOILA! A big fat digital YES. In the resounding silence that followed my reading the results, my concrete emotional wall began to crack and break into tiny little pieces. After the age of ten, it becomes really rare to feel anything outside the range of emotion, surprise and experience that you have become used to, and no matter how joyous or sad you are, you still just pulse up and down that predetermined feelings track. Not too high, not too low, in a comfortable Prozac range. This, however, had me off the charts and flying through space – something that I had never felt before and barely understood, and am still somewhat trying to understand now. Then of course came the trickle of tears, definitely from happiness but mostly from shock.