Is There A Chance You Could Be Pregnant?
Well, shit. I guess there’s always a chance, right? Alright, maybe not always, teehee. But shit shit shit, I forgot they ask this question. Does she really need to know? Like could I pretend I don’t know yet if I was? Like it probably wouldn’t show up on a pregnancy test, so I’ll just drink this glass of Prosecco pretend? But fuck, would this be really harmful to a little, unassuming zygote? No, I need this done today. I canNOT put this off. It’s fine. I’m fine. It will all be fine. Just say it: “Um, NOPE!” (nervous laughter) Now please strap that lead belt around my waist, so I can maintain a false sense of security.
Those were just a few of the thoughts racing through my mind when the mammogram tech asked me that question. And in case you’re wondering why I’m mammogramming at 33; I’m just playing it safe. There’s a strong family history yada yada and if you want to cry about it, read this. Anyway, when I got home after the test (all clear by the way), I immediately took a prenatal vitamin. Like that was neutralizing the pretend situation or something.
Truth: I had actually been worried about a baby embryo for a couple days. To spare some family members the details, I’ll just say some cycle counting had gone horribly wrong, and certain, we’ll call them “events”, had taken place when they shouldn’t have. Why was I worried? I was pretty confident we would go for a third kid eventually, but not now! Not yet! We have a lot of plans this summer, a lot of weddings I would not like to have to pass on the champagne at. I mean, Jesus H. Christ, that is not a super respectable reason to hope you’re not pregnant. But kinda maybe it is. No, seriously, Tom and I have been planning on taking advantage of wedding season to enjoy some mini getaways. Although, at this point you might be thinking that’s the last thing we need.
I started convincing myself I was pregnant. And then I cried. How would we do this financially slash physicially slash mentally and emotionally slash slash slash. Was this unfair to Billy somehow? Have I spent enough quality time with the kids before I go down the rabbit hole of pregnancy ailments?
What would people think? And why did I give a shit anyway? Every twinge in my pelvis: oh must be implantation! Any time I snapped at Tom: hormonal mood swings! I was hyperaware of my body, anticipating any new sign or symptom. I was also full of panic.
Tom was actually cool about it. It kind of surprised me that he wasn’t freaking out, so then something happened. I started getting excited. Like, okay maybe I really am pregnant and this house is going to be fucking nuts in 9 months, but I love my little assholes so much, and oh my God there could be another jerk here to love next Christmas! I reeled it in though. I settled on “cautiously excited”, but still kind of scared. At this point, I had gone off the Google search deep end. What were my odds of a positive pregnancy test 7 days before a missed period? I spent more than I care to admit ($100) on pregnancy tests. Digital, blue dye, pink lines, all of it.
I couldn’t trust Tom’s man eyes alone. “Samm, do you see a line? I think I see one.”
“Mmm, maybe the third one down. Definitely not the first.”
“What?! Seriously?? I thought I saw a faint line in the first one! Okay what if I hold it up to the light?”
There was a lot of back and forth with this malarkey. Samm advised me not to take any more tests for a few days because it was too soon to tell, but she knew better and texted me every morning.
“Did you test again?” Obviously. Nothing. Am I or am I not? It was killing me. It was all I could think about. I just needed confirmation so I could get on board, or a negative, so I could move on.
….I got my period.
My heart immediately sank. I was not relieved. I had a lump in my throat. Why was I so disappointed? What the fuck just happened? Why were tears welling in my crazy person eyes?! It’s a strange thing that happens to women sometimes. Even if you weren’t planning it and the timing was all off, there’s a brief moment when the three minutes are up and there’s only one line there; and you feel sad.
It’s a tricky subject to write about because why the fuck do I get to be sad and gloomy? That feels unfair and greedy because I already have two kids. I am very well aware of how lucky I am in that respect, but still, I was sad for the baby that could have been, that I never actually even had. Being a woman of childbearing age is just a complete mindfuck sometimes. But I guess it reaffirmed that I would love the chance to have third child and push the last pieces of my sanity right out of my hooha. And if Tom and I “event” and it works, then that would be fantastic. And if you have any spare pregnancy tests, please send them my way.