Guuuuuuyyyyyyys!! I am seriously struggling here. I have a goal to post once a week and here I am trying to figure out what to post and I have next to no ideas! I’ve been a slacker in the organization department this week so I don’t have anything delicious or creative to share…
But I was thinking the other day about how for a long time I’ve felt like March is the worst month. And it’s nothing personal, really, it’s just that I think March is the ugliest month and therefore is deemed “the worst.” But it’s been totally gorgeous here for the past week or so and it made me think that maybe March isn’t so bad after all. And then I remembered that Ben proposed to me in March (yesterday…five years ago!) and also March last year was when we found out that I was pregnant!
So here, because I don’t have anything else to post, is the story of how we found out we were expecting! And I realize that this topic might make some of you nervous…but I’m definitely going to try to keep things as un-weird as possible. Normal. Aight?
So really I’ve gotta set the stage by reminding everyone that we were living in Bush Alaska at the time (I know, it seems like 10 years ago to me too). Ben had gone out to Pilot Point in October and, after Christmas break, I joined him. I had been off the pill for a few months at this point so along with the rest of the toiletries I hauled to Alaska was a package of pregnancy tests.
Sometime in February I finally had an excuse to bust open that particular package (eh? eh? vague-ish but not weird???). I even waited a few extra days just to be sure. I told myself that on Wednesday morning I’d wake up early and take the pregnancy test. And when Wednesday morning came I could hardly stay in bed I was so excited. I mean, I had seriously been feeling pregnant, you know? Like I had to pee all the time and I was getting more headaches and Jaeger dog was wanting to snuggle me more. I was positive that I was pregnant and that little pregnancy test was all I had to do to confirm it!
Now you can all make fun of me for this next part but when I opened that package I was surprised to find nothing more than three itty bitty strips of paper and some shoddy instructions. I had never seen this kind of pregnancy test before! I read the instructions and re-read the instructions and just to make a long story short I wasted 2 of those strips of paper because I had no clue what I was doing (seriously, guys, the instructions were awful!). Finally knowing what I was doing with the final strip, I dipped it, set my alarm and buried my face into the couch until the timer dinged. And the test was….
Negative! Apparently, I was NOT pregnant!
But…but…what about all those signs? I mean, I had seriously been peeing SO much! Right? But the test said no…so I guess that was that.
Funnily enough (is funnily a word???), that very day my sister-in-law and brother texted us a pic of their own positive pregnancy test (it was a punk, from the previous year-their baby and Wendy were born almost exactly a year a part), but the text was just one of many reasons why I couldn’t get that stupid negative test out of my head.
I had been sure I was pregnant but now I was totally not sure. I mean, maybe the pregnancy test was wrong (I may or may not have dug it out of the trash multiple times to double check its results). But if it wasn’t wrong then there was something else going on with me and that scared me too!
Here’s where the fact that we were living in the Bush is critical. One might feel inclined to ask, “Why didn’t you just go buy another pregnancy test to make sure?” Well, because there was only one teeny store in town. It was doubtful that they carried this particular item and even if they did, there was no way I was buying it there! I mean, the whole village would’ve known about it the next day (I may be exaggerating the point slightly…but I don’t think so). So casually stopping by the drugstore as an anonymous citizen was not possible (especially because they did not have a drugstore)…
So that very day I went online and ordered the top rated pregnancy test (the ones I had used were a dollar for the three. Moral of the story: buy better tests!) and prayed that we’d have some sort of mail miracle and get the order soon!
But of course all the elements combined together against me and we had some of the worst weather in the following weeks. Mail in the bush is always slow. It’s slower when you’re waiting for something really important to come!
While I waited I never, you know, got any proof that the pregnancy test had been right. So I just waited and worried.
Two and half weeks later (two and a half WEEKS, people! It might as well have been a year!) the mail finally came! And those top-of-the-line (ha!) pregnancy tests were there nestled in a box alongside some peanut butter. Praises be!
I had planned this all out ahead of time to wait until the morning to actually take the test because I heard that’s when your hormones are the strongest…but PLEASE! Ain’t nobody got time for that when they’ve been waiting 3 years! (Or three weeks, whatevs). So I decided to do next best and not pee for 2 hours before taking it (another recommendation. I’m not sure either of these things are true or necessary). So I went out for a run and took my time. Upon returning home, I opened the door to a truly horrifying stench…bacon! I told Ben that the smell made me nauseous and Ben replied, “If bacon makes you nauseous, you don’t have to waste your time taking that pregnancy test!” So true. So true.
I waited the remaining hour or so, took the test, set the timer….waited….aaaaaaaaaannd…..two pink lines! Obviously you guys knew the end of this story before it even began but suffice it to say that I was so happy and, honestly, so relieved! I had been seriously stressing! When I told Ben he said, “I knew it.”
Me: Whaaaaa?!? Really???
Ben: Yeah. You knew it too. That other test just freaked you out.
Too true. I think I really did know all along, but I was afraid to admit it in case that first test really was right.
Stupid crappy pregnancy tests!
Dumb slow Bush mail!
But now I think all of it was quite hilarious…and it was actually pretty nice finding out later (“Oh my gosh-I’m already 7 1/2 weeks!”).
So, yeah. March, I guess you’re alright after all.