**Warning** This entry involves talk about things that may gross you out. So if you don’t want to know about my period or things of that nature- stop reading now.
I had been off of birth control since February and Thomas and I had talked about becoming pregnant for a while now. We didn’t want to make it super public knowledge that this was a part of the plan so that we wouldn’t have to deal with inquiries about “how’s it going?” Giving people a heads up would really kill any sort of surprise. Plus, if we ended up having trouble conceiving we didn’t want to have to explain that to anyone. It’s a known fact that anyone who has been asking us about, “When are you guys going to have kids?” or anything to that effect has been bothersome to me. Not because I wouldn’t want to share the good news, but to be frank, it’s really no one’s business.
Anyway, since taking myself off of birth control I had been experiencing really abnormal periods. My cycles varied from 41 to 48 days and all of the articles that I was reading about it said that cycles that long tend to mean that you aren’t ovulating. On top of that all of my premenstrual symptoms were exaggerated as compared to when I was on the pill (which is why I’ve been on it anyway- not as a means of actual birth control). I was really moody, in huge amounts of pain, and cried… a lot. It was adding insult to injury that my period just wasn’t coming on schedule. It’s very unsettling when something doesn’t show up when it’s been showing up on time (relatively) for the past 14 years. It was even more upsetting that I knew it wasn’t because I was pregnant. Because of these long cycles, I had made it a habit to take pregnancy tests- not to see if I was pregnant but rather to reassure myself that Aunt Flo was coming.
After six months my cycles started to regulate. It went from 48 days one month, to 42 days the next, to 31 days. I was thankful that regularity was starting to happen. Getting my cycle below 40 days meant that I was probably ovulating again!
The next dilemma was trying to make sure that I got my period before Thomas and I went on our Hawaiian vacation. No woman wants to be bloaty, teary, crampy, and grumpy on your vacation- especially when you’re supposed to be in a bathing suit. It seemed that my regulating happened just in time. That would put my expected date to start my period on August 29 (or sooner if my cycles continued to shrink). So you could imagine how antsy I was waiting for my monthly gem to show up. By midday on the 29th I started to get really anxious- so I went back to my previous habit of grabbing a pregnancy test to reassure myself that it was coming.
Normally when I take the test it pops up “Not Pregnant” pretty quickly- I don’t even have to wait the suggested three minutes. This time however, I set a timer on my phone and didn’t look at it. I put myself on standby. Three minutes later, my phone sounds off and I check the test.
What the….? Two lines? I squint hard. My vision is funky cause I’m obviously seeing double. I look again. Two lines. Pregnant. Pregnant? Yeah, pregnant.
I start screaming. “Oh my God! OH MY GOD!!!” I immediately start to cry. I check the test again- still two very solid pink lines. I continue screaming and start running around the house. I make it to the kitchen where I start to hyperventilate. I have to calm down. What if my freaking out squishes the thing? No, I can’t be pregnant. I calm myself down before I have an asthma attack. I then very quickly grab a bottle of water from the fridge, my car keys, and my purse. I have to head to the store and buy another test. Maybe another brand. Something digital. Maybe that test was defective.
I get to Target after I finish chugging my water. I grab another box of tests and another bottle of water. Once I head home I have some more water and anxiously await nature’s call.
I take three more tests in 20 minutes. Oh yeah, they all say I’m pregnant. They can’t all be defective, right?
Now I’m thinking, how am I going to tell Thomas? Our anniversary was coming up, I can tell him then, when we’re in Hawaii. That’s crazy, I can’t wait a week! It’s Monday! Why did I have to take a test on Monday… I should have waited until Friday at least! You’re being dumb, Lindsey. You need to know this is happening!
I hop back in my car and head to a baby store. I ask the sales woman if they have any Hawaiian onesies. “For a boy or girl?” she asks. I tell her it doesn’t matter and immediately want to yell, “I’m pregnant!!!” but I don’t. The first person I tell has to be Thomas. They don’t have anything Hawaiian so I buy a white onesie with a duck on it. I go to another baby store. There I grab more onesies, a small video camera, and some wrapping supplies.
When Thomas comes home I ask him to do me a favor to send him out of the room. I then bring out his gift and hit record on the hidden camera.
“What’s this?” he said.
“I got your anniversary present.”
“But it’s early.”
“I know but I’m excited.” I say.
He opens the box, makes a joke about getting him tissue paper and then pulls out a onesie. “Baby clothes?”
Should I wait for him to ask? I can’t. “I’m pregnant.”
“What?!”
I explained it all to him. He hugs me, he kisses me. I show him the test. He literally starts hopping up and down because he is so excited.
The next day I start to freak out. I swear I’m not pregnant. I just lied to my husband. I’m a terrible person. I don’t feel pregnant. I have no symptoms. I make an appointment with my doctor so that she can confirm that all four tests were faulty and I’m not pregnant.
Thomas meets me there. I pee in a cup. They run the test. “Positive for pregnancy! Congratulations!”
Good Lord. It’s gotta be true, right? We’re going to have a baby.
