A mother of two, a wife of one and a woman in search of a strong cocktail
Four days ago, I was kind of pretty sure that I was pregnant. This morning, Mother Nature, along with two negative pregnancy tests, have assured me that I am not pregnant. Today, I am equal parts relieved and sad by confirmation of no bun in oven.
It all started 37 days ago when a Certain Good Friend was all...you don’t keep track of your period? (Yeah. Girls talk about their PERIODS, okay?) And I was all, um, no. It just comes. I get cranky, I get bloated, I get a zit, I cry a lot, and then It comes. It’s never not come...oh....except for that one unexpected time when It didn’t come..now referred to as FIRST BORN.
The point is, I decided, 37 days ago, that maybe Certain Good Friend was right. It really wouldn’t take too much of an effort to just make a mark in my calendar when I got It, even though that would mean finding a pen, and a calendar. Which I did and so I did.
And then, I’m sitting around, feeling cranky, bloated, and sad about the zit on my chin when I realize, oh...well, It must be coming. Any day now. It should be happening. Hmmm. Why isn’t it happening? Where is that calendar? Maybe I should count the days. 31? 31 days? No. Let me count again. 31. Hmmm. Found out I was pregnant with Daughter at 32 days. No. I can’t be! With a .01% chance? Impossible. (Practically.)
Day 32. Day 33. Day 34. Day 34 I feel nauseous. I was dragging on my run. I had a headache. OH SHIT I’M TOTALLY PREGNANT.
Here, a sampling of thoughts that were spinning right round baby right round the duration of Day 34:
Oh, a baby! I love babies. I want a baby. Yeah! A baby.
How will Son and Daughter take it?
Oh, God, Husband might pass out.
I always said I wanted another one.
I do want another one. Do I want one right now?
Oh, God, I don’t want to have to lose all that weight again.
Such a fun summer planned.
Now a sober summer. BOO sober summer!
The playroom will have to go back to a nursery.
It was so nice to have that room as a playroom.
I love babies. I want a baby.
But I just got my mojo back. A baby, although one that will surely be a beautiful genius, will totally kill my mojo for at least one year.
I liked my mojo.
Hello leaky boobs and sleepless nights.
I need a drink.
Evening 34: Husband bought pregnancy test and heartburn medicine. Test: negative. Oh.
Day 35: second test. Negative. Really?
Day 36: Waiting.
Day 37: It arrives. Doesn’t even apologize for being tardy. Just shows up, like, oh yeah...sorry about that, lady. Happens sometimes. Get over it. (Yeah, my period is totally a dude. Obviously.)
So, now I’m getting over it. Summer plans resumed. Thoughts of cooing baby pushed out of mind. And then realized that I DO want another baby...but I could wait a couple of years. And also, Husband didn’t pass out when confronted with possible third child. Didn’t have anxiety. Gave me a hug and said, it would be wonderful.
It will be wonderful. One day.
And Husband...Husband is wonderful.
And, most likely, relieved. For now.