We are moving soon and started to pack up some small boxes here and there.  I was going through my jewelry drawer and found the pregnancy test that confirmed I was with child in 2010.  Yes, I kept it.  Yes, it had dried pee on it.  Don’t judge me.  Finding it made me think back to the time when Hubby and I decided we wanted to have a baby.  We told each other things like “whatever happens, happens” and “if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be.”  We were all love peace and hair grease about it.  But then it didn’t happen the first month and that attitude got old, fast.    Hubby and I tend to be competitive.  And if you know anything about this type of people then you know they expect that the harder they work, the more they achieve.

Let me tell you something if you don’t already know it: you can’t try harder at this and expect to “do better.”

I turned into a pregnancy testing freak.  I thought I would be the only Super Human  that could tell she was pregnant the second after coitus (Dear God I hope my Mother isn’t reading this).  I would literally run into the bathroom to test my pee right after doing the nasty.  I tested every morning regardless if I had sex the night before because apparently that’s when your pee is the “strongest.” (PS: Do you know how expensive pregnancy tests are? It’s like the pregnancy stick companies know they’ve got you by the balls.) I was obsessed.  Finally, after a shower one day, I tested and waited the grueling 3 minutes it takes for the test to come back positive or negative.  And when the 2nd pink line ever so slowly started to (barely) appear my heart literally jumped out of my chest.  My eyes strained to see it.  I put that stick right up to my pupil to make sure I wasn’t seeing things; didn’t even care it was dripping with fresh pee. 

I’ve heard stories where people do really cute, elaborate things to let their husbands know a baby is on the way.  Things like wrapping the positive pregnancy stick in a pink and blue box with a pretty ribbon on it.  Maybe they even wash the stick first.  Or they offer to cook dinner but then serve nothing but baby carrots, baby peas, and baby corn; gazing up at their hubby’s confused look with a little giggle, chin to shoulder.

Not me. 

The second I saw the lightest-pink-line-ever-seen-by-the-human-eye, I ran out of the bathroom butt ass naked.  I grabbed Hubby’s head and pushed HIS pupil into the (still dripping) pee stick.   I excitedly yell “AHHH!” “Does that look like a second pink line to you??”  Hubby slowly removes the back of his head from my hand, squints his eyes and states: “There’s still PEE on that thing.” 

Romantic, eh?


(Photo courtesy of Katydoyle.com)

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