November 22, 2013.
Welp, that’s definitely two lines. Two pink lines, one a bit more faint than the other, but definitely present. Definitely THERE.
Two. Pink. Lines.
Maybe I should take another test.
“STEEEVVVIIIEEE!!!!!!!!!!” I wailed with the vigor of a thousand bloodhounds. It was 8 am, he was dressing for work and babbling about something that wasn’t baby-related. Like taxes?
I thrust the tattle-tale test into his hand and screamed a whole lot more. “What if it’s true? What if it’s real? What if it’s a false positive? WHAT IF ITS TRUE?!!”
I was feeling an unfamiliar kind of rush, like a flush of the senses. Like an eclipse of reality. Like happy and freaked and scared and expectant (ha.) But most of all, I felt far too young for this to actually be true. Aren’t I too young to have a, a, um…?
No time for thinking.
No time for thinking.
Yelling seemed to be the only volume my voice could produce. But before I could do any more -
His perfect reaction. He took the test from my hand and just looked at it. That man’s calm face was immediately saturated by his grin, from his sunny eyes to his ears. Combined with his lethal blonde beauty and a flurry of encouraging words, he swept me up in a hug, and for about 3 seconds, our house was quieted with THE MOMENT.
Then I started hollering again.
“Do you think it’s trrrueeee?!!?!??” I cried, much like a dying cat.
He had to go to work. We agreed to call my sister and get advice. Ha, yeah right. More like I DECIDED to call my sister. And he nodded and kissed me, then sort of floated out the door. I think he actually pranced down the hallway and out of the building.
After a frantic phone call to my big sis (what in the world do people do without big sisters?!), I followed her sound advice and took a (calm) journey to the drugstore. Where I proceeded to purchase three more tests. In a different brand, of course. The package says to wait until morning to test again, and being an obedient kind of girl, I decided to wait.
That lasted about ten minutes.
I went downstairs and knocked out two more tests. The word “pregnant” came across the tiny digital screen. Pregnant. That itty-bitty word. Is so definitive. And so piercing.