See, every month it’s the same thing- not sure exactly when my period will show up / half hoping that it won’t / other half terrified… in any event; terribly impatient.
And so, the pregnancy test. Ever since my ectopic pregnancy last year these tests have been omni-present and exclusively negative, which, again, stirs up a whole lot of mixed emotions. On the one hand I associate a positive pregnancy test as immediately preceeding the scariest, saddest week of my life; but on the other hand, I see each negative result as a personal failure.
Which brings us to today. I got my period around this time last month when M and I were in Los Angeles visiting friends and family so I’m on the lookout now (or not?) but when I went to the bathroom and noticed spotting- I got scared. Here’s me: I don’t spot. When my uterus decides to shed its lining it goes WHOLE HOG Chuck Norris style! None of this dribble dribble business. In fact, the only time I have spotted was a week before the ectopic rupture nightmare. I took a few deep breaths in the stall and forced myself to stop repeating, “It’s happening again. It’s fucking happening again. How on earth could this be happening again?!”
So off to Duane Reade I went to purchase my twin pack of pee sticks. Back to the office, guzzle some iced tea, return to bathroom, hold stick in pee with trembling hands, close eyes, open eyes, squint at stick, NOT PREGNANT- wait… another line forming? No. Yes? Sort of? The pregnancy indicator window is not completely blank. It’s not completely filled-with-a-blue-line either. I will try again tomorrow morning and the day after that, until I am sure. One day I’ll see that double line and feel great … but this not a good start.
I never thought a couple of lines would give me this much trouble. (Actually if you had told me that back in college I would have disagreed- but we wouldn’t have been talking about the same thing)