My how time flies. It literally seems as if it were just a few days ago that I found out I was pregnant. So on that note, I figured I would use today's blog post to tell the events of the day and how they unfolded. I'll warn you, there may be some cursing. People tend to curse when you tell them you're pregnant.
First of all, it was a few days after Christmas that I told a good friend of mine that the wonderful Aunt Flo had yet to visit, but it wasn't very concerning to me. On New Years Eve, Mr. H and I stopped by my Mom's house, where my step-dad offered me a beer. After drinking half of it, I started to feel a little off kilter. I didn't finish it off of course, but passed it to Mr. H to finish and head home. The next morning I woke up around 8 in the morning (which, as everyone knows, was not like me at all) and started to think about how odd it was that a half of a beer could have such an affect on me. Steph was planning on coming over later that afternoon, and had mentioned that she had a pregnancy test she could bring me. I sent her a text message about 5 minutes after being awake that said "Could you possibly bring me the pregnancy test when you come over this afternoon?"
Knowing that she was still asleep, I knew I wouldn't get a response from her until around noon. After sitting on my couch in a house by myself for about two more minutes, I just decided to make a run to CVS. I remember thinking "This is going to be a waste of my money. It'll be negative, I'll come home, Aunt Flo will show up tomorrow, end of story." Boy was I wrong.
Now, I've had my scares in the past, so I know how this whole testing crap works. But I've never actually done in the way in which I did this time. Most of the time I do what's necessary, sit there and stare at the stick, and just think "Well that seemed liked three minutes" and toss it out.
This time I did what was necessary, left the room, shut the door, turned on the timer for 3 minutes, and paced the entire house like a crazy person. The timer went off, and I remember pausing in front of the bathroom door and taking a few deep breaths. Looking back, I find it so strange that I reacted this way. I think my body was telling me that I knew this was different, which is why I treated it so different. I opened the door, and I swear, I saw the TWO lines from 5 feet away.
What did I do next? I shut the door and walked away. I then preceded to mumble "Oh my god" over and over again. Mumble. That might not be the word I'm looking for. Scream might be more appropriate. I would say that in the course of the next 15 minutes I walked in and out of the bathroom at least 30 times. I could have just picked up the test and carried it around with me in my pacing-frantic-crazy state. Instead, I just kept going back and forth. Almost like when you open the refrigerator, stare in for a good 5 minutes and realize you've got nothing to eat, close it, then open it again to see if anything magically appeared in there. I guess I thought that I'd open that bathroom door and it would magically turn into a negative result.
Well obviously, as it should, the test remained positive. I had a little bean of a person growing inside of me. That thought didn't cross my mind at the time. What was crossing my mind was "We've only been married three months!", "Why did I have to take a test when I am home alone?", "How are we going to afford a baby?!" and worst of all, "How am I going to tell Mr. H?"
I called Mom first. Yes I know, slap my hand for not calling the husband first, but this was my mentality. I have to tell SOMEONE. And telling Mr. H over the phone while he is at work might not be the best idea. I had to save telling him in person. So Mom doesn't answer. I called Stephanie, she doesn't answer either. I called my friend Allison, and she doesn't answer either. My sister in-law just happened to disclose her pregnancy with me first. Apparently the stars aligned or that is just how fate had it, that no one answer the phone, except for her.
She answered the phone with her chipper voice and said, "Well what are you doing?"
I think I responded with a "Oh God." Most of what I said that day didn't make a hell of a lot of sense to myself or anyone else. She says "What, what is it?". I didn't think ahead of time of how to formulate how I was actually going to say it. I blurted out "I'm pregnant?". Like it was a question. Like I wanted her to say, "Well I can diagnose you over the phone, and it looks like...yes, yes you are pregnant." I'm not sure if it were Christy or she passed the phone over to a pack of hyenas. Because after that all I heard was high pitched squeals, some laughing, and some screaming...