Well fellow MomFinds readers, I’m pregnant. Yup. Officially knocked up, bun in the oven, full-court-press pregnant. And I’d like to say that when Jeanine approached me about chronicling my pregnancy that I demurred. But the truth is, I want to tell the world! I want to meet people who are going through–or have gone through–similar experiences. I want to know what you think, if you have advice, if my stories remind you of being pregnant or if you had a completely different journey. So, I’m Anna–let’s start with what I like to call, The Discovery.
As a working woman in a relationship co-habitating with my partner before marriage, I thought of pregnancy tests like NyQuil–they’re really just one of those things you have around the house, just in case. As our relationship progressed, and we got married, and then later decided to have a family, the sigh of relief at a negative sign turned into something a little more complex.
For me, as for many women I know, the idea of actually getting pregnant was daunting. It’s one thing when you’re young and you’re not ready; the negative sign is a relief. But as those negatives start mounting up, you begin to wonder whether not getting pregnant was the easy part.
My doctor warned that getting pregnant could take up to a year. What my doc failed to mention was that during this year my family would incessantly ask, “So, when are you getting pregnant?” or “Where’s the baby?” It was with all of this hanging over my head that I walked upstairs one day and unwrapped the test. The stupid thing says you have to pee on it for five seconds, which, if you don’t really have to go, is a long time. Before I knew it I looked up to….
… a faint little plus. A light little pink plus sign was staring back at me from the rim of my sink.
If you’ve been pregnant, that moment is completely surreal. For a lot of women who spend their twenties focused on building a career, you live in fear of that plus. Now, everything you want is upside down and you couldn’t be happier!
“Don’t get too excited… I’m supposed to take the test in the morning,” I told my husband when I showed it to him.
“Ok,” he said, staring.
At 5 a.m. the next morning, I got up to do a quick run and then back in bed to snuggle with my honey. “Where are you going?” he asked, half asleep.
“Just to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
“Ok! Take the stick. Take the STIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIICK!!!” The man practically threw it at me, so I grabbed it and took the test.
Because this was the confirmation test, I had to keep telling myself, “If it’s negative, I won’t be sad. If it’s negative, I won’t be sad.” But when you think you might be pregnant, and it’s something you really want, you know you’re fibbing to yourself a bit. This time, an unmistakable bright pink plus stood out on the test. A very clear, “You are WAY pregnant!!” wake up call from a tiny white stick. I stared, then walked back into the bedroom.
“Well?!” my husband shouted with excitement.
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