It's that moment every married couple who has been trying to conceive reaches. It's those two little pink lines (or sometimes words or blue lines or... you get the picture) that turn your world upside-down. It is a moment I might remember just as much as the moment we said "I do". Here is how that moment went down for us:
Friday night I got up to head into the kitchen to refill my glass when all of a sudden I felt awful. I almost lost my dinner right there without warning. I told Mark I didn't feel well, but maybe I just needed to drink some water. After a few gulps I felt fine, problem solved. But Mark and I both had that look of "Maybe it's something more than just dehydration". I told him I would pee on a stick in the morning, as recommended by every pregnancy test known to man. Had I known then what I know now, I would have just done it that night. But, alas, I chose to wait.
Saturday morning at 6 a.m. I woke up bright and early and decided to pee in my little plastic cup as I am not nearly coordinated enough to actually pee on a stick. I dunked the stick and before I could even lay the test flat I could see the test go to work. By the time it was carefully set on the counter the positive line was there. Even before the "control" line had shown up! I was in shock to say the least. I went into the bedroom and just stood there. Mark asked me what was wrong, and I dumbly told him that I needed to set a timer. I took my cell phone and went back into the bathroom. The line was still there, still going very strong.
I went back into the bedroom and shared the great news with Mark. I kept giggling like a hysterical moron, probably scaring the pants off of Mark. We decided I should do another one, just in case. Same exact thing happened. And so my pregnancy story started.
According to calculations my due date is October 13. I have a sneaking suspicion I might be farther just because of how strong and fast my positive was, but who knows. My first ultrasound date on March 8th will hopefully give me a better idea.
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