Finding Out


Well, I guess I’ve learned a couple of valuable lessons. It really only takes one try. And God invented birth control for a reason. Obviously, hindsight is 20/20, and these are lessons that should have been learned long before the ripe old age of twenty-nine.

But that’s all beside the point now. Here I am- knocked up, bloated, feeling like I could eat the world as a light snack (or alternatively, depending on my stomach’s mood, toss my cookies). How did this happen, you wonder? Well, actually, you probably don’t. And if your mother didn’t have the birds and bees talk with you, that’s your problem, and I’m not explaining it here. Google it or something. I guess what I meant was- when did this all go down?

Well, there we were, my husband and I, having a lovely time vacationing. A really lovely time if you catch my drift. Four weeks later, I find myself sitting half-naked on the bathroom floor, shivering because the floor’s cold and eyeing a preganancy test, wondering whether my eyes might not be deceiving me. A line in the second window. No way. Can’t be right. Besides, it’s really faint. No need to mention it to senor husband. I’ll just pop over to CVS on my way to work and pick up another. This has got to be a mistake.

Arrive at CVS to discover the Fort Knox version of pregnancy test storage compartments. Since when does the drugstore LOCK UP the pregnancy tests? Good Lord. Are women really coming in droves and pilfering pregnancy tests? You must be kidding. So I push the giant button on locked cabinet, which rudely announces, “SALES ASSOCIATE NEEDED IN THE FEMININE HYGIENE AISLE!” Oh. em. gee. If I could have pulled up the carpet and hidden underneath, I would have. Eventually the (male- of course) sales associate arrives, and I explain that I need a pregnancy test. I believe he may have been more embarassed than I was. I take my EPT dual test kit (gotta have two- you know, in case it’s wrong like my first one was) to the front of the store, plop it down to pay, and the cashier woman announces, “Boy, I sure am glad I don’t have to worry about this anymore.” Seriously- is this a freaking cosmic joke here, people?

So I get to work. I’m totally nervous and botch the first one. Invalid result. D’oh. Problem is I don’t have to pee anymore, and I can’t chug liquids cause that might result in an invalid test. Sigh. So I wait. I am not a patient woman. (Clearly, I will have some trouble with this whole pregnancy thing).

And finally, the urge to tinkle strikes, and I’m back in the bathroom. This time the results are undeniable. A plus sign stares back at me.

God help me. I am knocked up.

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