I should start out by saying that I consider myself to be a fairly intelligent and observant person. I'm no genius, but I've been able to make it this far.
There was a time when I swore people to secrecy requesting that this story never be told. Thanks to my best friend that lasted about a day. Looking back now, it probably deserves to be documented, so here goes...enjoy.
I was almost twelve weeks postpartum, adjusting to life with a newborn and a toddler, and getting ready for the end of my maternity leave. I was still nursing Nate but was one of those lucky lucky girls who Aunt Flo just couldn't live without (TMI, yes, but like nudity in a movie I promise it adds to the story line). So I was waiting for her arrival and she was being fashionably late. Knowing that being postpartum and nursing, my hormones were going bonkers, so I waited and I waited. After a few days a thought started creeping into my head, could I be knocked up AGAIN?
No, no way. There's no way. Seriously, there's no. way. Steve and I had agreed on having two kids. We had bought a house with three bedrooms. We had a 12 WEEK OLD. There's no way.
Then I remembered how fertile a woman is while she's nursing. I also remembered how you could set a watch by my cycle. I started to get nervous.
I decided that I would take a pregnancy test just to set my mind at ease. There was no reason to be worrying about something that wasn't going to happen. I was positive that my hormones were to blame, so what's the harm in taking a leftover pregnancy test and getting on with my life?
Yeah.
One morning, while Steve was at work (he had no idea any of this was going on), I took a test. I left it sitting on the bathroom counter and was so positive that it was going to be negative that I almost forgot to go back to check the result. When I walked into the bathroom and looked down I immediately felt my hands starting to shake. There was a faint, FAINT, second pink line. I grabbed the box out of the trash thinking that maybe, on this test, two pink lines meant NOT pregnant. No such luck.
The test said I was pregnant.
I thought I was going to lose my breakfast. With shaking hands I picked up my cell phone and called my best friend, she didn't answer. I called my sister, she didn't answer. I called my Mom, she didn't answer. I reluctantly called Steve (I really didn't want to discuss this over the phone, but was about to lose my shit), he didn't answer.
If you know me, you know that I NEVER call people. I have a thing with talking on the phone, it's weird. I had called four of the most important people in my life and none of them had answered. Wasn't that convenient? After a
That did the trick and my phone started to ring. I picked up, and while hyperventilating, explained to her what was going on. Like any good friend she calmed me down and tried to find any reason why the test might be wrong. Expired? Not my first morning pee? She told me to send her a picture.
I sent the picture and could hear in her voice that she saw the line and the excuses were over. I was pregnant.
Commence hyperventilating.
She told me that she was on her way over with another test. I took the test and guess what? It was negative!
I have never been so relieved in my entire life. Until I heard my best friend, a nurse, tell me that I still needed to take another test in the morning to be sure. Great. I decided that for my own sanity, I was going to go with the negative result until I knew for sure otherwise.
My friend was thoroughly confused. How did I have one positive test and one negative one? She asked me where the original test was and I told her I had thrown it away. It was the only way I could make myself stop staring at it. She told me to go get it.
I handed her the test and watched as she analyzed it. Then I heard her say, "Uh, Kim?"
"Yeah?"
"Oh...Kim."
"What?!"
"This isn't a pregnancy test. It's a FERTILITY test."
Commence uncontrollable laughter.
I quickly swore her to secrecy (which, as we have already established, didn't last long) and made sure that all evidence was destroyed. I kind of regret that now.
Kind of.
On the bright side, I am definitely a fertile myrtle!
