Playing it Cool at Walmart
THREE DAYS. That hasn't happened since my miscarriage three years ago. Three whole days without a period. I called my OB/GYN's nurse this afternoon to let her know of my previous pregnancy test I took (On Mother's Day, of course) that came up negative. We made small talk as she had me fill her on an ovarian cyst that burst... what the timeline looked like, how heavy the bleeding was, ya know... the fun stuff.
That's when she said the words that every woman TTC loves to hear, "It may have been too soon. I would recommend taking another test on Saturday before coming back in." Uhhhh YES, PLEASE. There's always this self-talk that happens before taking a pregnancy test when you're TTC, "If its negative, that's okay! It's fate that I'm buying a 3 pack anyway!" and then, "How should I tell my mom that I'm pregnant?!" Its ridiculous, I know. But its real. It happens.
I headed into Walmart in the usual Walmart-appropriate attire; my mom's fuzzy pj pants and a softball tee tied together with my glittery sandals. I would remember exactly what I wore, who I spoke to, and other purchases I made so that I can one day tell my baby how I found out I was pregnant. Duh!
I had to play it cool with my excitement. Bread! I need bread! I grabbed bread, strawberry jam and chips and salsa. Like I said, I'm a snacker. Okay. Now it doesn't seem too antsy. I'll casually check out the pregnancy tests and get the best one I can find! Ill obviously want to take a picture of it and put it in the baby book. Obviously.
I take pride in buying pregnancy tests. It's a weird thing I do. I'm a married woman who has waited FAR too long to play the shame game. I'm in fuzzy pj pants and glitter sandals for goodness sake. Anyway.
I get home, stashing the box of pregnancy test into my purse, then rush into the house all casual. I can't get my husband's hopes up as high as mine are right now. It'd be the umpteenth time. I put away the groceries. I have to look casual, dangit. I kiss my husband then sneak into the bathroom. With my purse. Because that doesn't scream "20 year old on her period on the first date".
Have you ever tried to open a pregnancy test box out of the plastic sealing and do it quietly? IT IS LIKE TRYING TO GENTLY REMOVE YOUR ACRYLIC NAILS. Practically impossible. I'm using my teeth, trying to be sneaky yet shaking because this could be it!
I finally rip the seal off of my personal Pandora's box and rip the test out as fast as I can, because I have to pee, you guys. I don't have time to read directions. I'm practically a pro at this after four years.
I pee on the stick, forever feeling like that is the one part of the test I will never master. I cover it on my sink while I wash my hands. Like that will somehow keep me from lifting the covering and looking anyway. I watch the clock tick in the bathroom and start to pray.
"Dear God, I know this isn't guaranteed. I know this could be negative. Give me peace. Let me feel peace if it is negative. And if its positive? HELP. I think we're ready for a baby, but I'm sure I'm dead wrong. I usually am."
Two minutes pass. I lift the cover. "Not Pregnant".
I gather myself. Stand up straight and think, "Okay. Okay."
I obviously doubt the test for a split second. "Maybe I'm one of those rare cases where I require a blood test because I'm just so medically advanced and mysterious that no pee test can apparently detect my obvious current pregnancy hormones."
Like I said, ridiculous. I know.
I walk out of the bathroom, keeping face. I've never had much of a poker face, so of course my husband notices. "I think I need to set an appointment next week after your Urologist appointment." He replies completely and utterly confused, "Why? What's up?" I try to keep face. I try to hold my casual tone, "I am three days late for my period. The OB/GYN nurse said I need to take another pregnancy test so I did. It's negative. So. I need to see what's going on with this ovarian cyst rupturing."
Then it happened. My minute of peace. Jesse hugged me and whispered, "I'm sorry, hunny."
You'd think, "Of course he should be sweet about a negative test in a situation like this." That's not how our marriage has worked for our first three years of TTC. But tonight, like the past 10 months or so, God gave me peace through a small gesture of my husband's. And for that, I am grateful. For that, I sing through my sorrow.
That's when she said the words that every woman TTC loves to hear, "It may have been too soon. I would recommend taking another test on Saturday before coming back in." Uhhhh YES, PLEASE. There's always this self-talk that happens before taking a pregnancy test when you're TTC, "If its negative, that's okay! It's fate that I'm buying a 3 pack anyway!" and then, "How should I tell my mom that I'm pregnant?!" Its ridiculous, I know. But its real. It happens.
I headed into Walmart in the usual Walmart-appropriate attire; my mom's fuzzy pj pants and a softball tee tied together with my glittery sandals. I would remember exactly what I wore, who I spoke to, and other purchases I made so that I can one day tell my baby how I found out I was pregnant. Duh!
I had to play it cool with my excitement. Bread! I need bread! I grabbed bread, strawberry jam and chips and salsa. Like I said, I'm a snacker. Okay. Now it doesn't seem too antsy. I'll casually check out the pregnancy tests and get the best one I can find! Ill obviously want to take a picture of it and put it in the baby book. Obviously.
I get home, stashing the box of pregnancy test into my purse, then rush into the house all casual. I can't get my husband's hopes up as high as mine are right now. It'd be the umpteenth time. I put away the groceries. I have to look casual, dangit. I kiss my husband then sneak into the bathroom. With my purse. Because that doesn't scream "20 year old on her period on the first date".
Have you ever tried to open a pregnancy test box out of the plastic sealing and do it quietly? IT IS LIKE TRYING TO GENTLY REMOVE YOUR ACRYLIC NAILS. Practically impossible. I'm using my teeth, trying to be sneaky yet shaking because this could be it!
I finally rip the seal off of my personal Pandora's box and rip the test out as fast as I can, because I have to pee, you guys. I don't have time to read directions. I'm practically a pro at this after four years.
I pee on the stick, forever feeling like that is the one part of the test I will never master. I cover it on my sink while I wash my hands. Like that will somehow keep me from lifting the covering and looking anyway. I watch the clock tick in the bathroom and start to pray.
"Dear God, I know this isn't guaranteed. I know this could be negative. Give me peace. Let me feel peace if it is negative. And if its positive? HELP. I think we're ready for a baby, but I'm sure I'm dead wrong. I usually am."
Two minutes pass. I lift the cover. "Not Pregnant".
I gather myself. Stand up straight and think, "Okay. Okay."
I obviously doubt the test for a split second. "Maybe I'm one of those rare cases where I require a blood test because I'm just so medically advanced and mysterious that no pee test can apparently detect my obvious current pregnancy hormones."
Like I said, ridiculous. I know.
I walk out of the bathroom, keeping face. I've never had much of a poker face, so of course my husband notices. "I think I need to set an appointment next week after your Urologist appointment." He replies completely and utterly confused, "Why? What's up?" I try to keep face. I try to hold my casual tone, "I am three days late for my period. The OB/GYN nurse said I need to take another pregnancy test so I did. It's negative. So. I need to see what's going on with this ovarian cyst rupturing."
Then it happened. My minute of peace. Jesse hugged me and whispered, "I'm sorry, hunny."
You'd think, "Of course he should be sweet about a negative test in a situation like this." That's not how our marriage has worked for our first three years of TTC. But tonight, like the past 10 months or so, God gave me peace through a small gesture of my husband's. And for that, I am grateful. For that, I sing through my sorrow.
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