To Keep a Baby Forever: The Moment I Found Out I Was Pregnant
I sat alone in the bathroom during the bright but chilly dawn of an usually cold June morning, surreptitiously awaiting the results of a pregnancy test. My period was late. My stomach was bloated with more than just a food baby, and my boobs were as sore as if I’d finally had them done after years of talking about it. There was no denying these tell tale signs. But there I sat, unglamorously, humbly, obediently waiting. A Cheshire Cat grin crept across my face as the two little lines intersected into a positive plus sign, confirming what I knew.
I very much regret being alone when I found out I was pregnant. I count it as my first with you, new baby, in the slew of regrets that holds hands with parenthood.
I snuck a pregnancy test on a quick trip home to see my parents that your dad couldn’t make. It coincided with the earliest I could find out. Patience is not my best virtue. I needed dollar store pregnancy test proof that this wasn’t just a wish that my heart made. But I regret that I didn’t have your dad there to immediately share our secret. I missed running into our bedroom at an ungodly hour, like I’d done with our first pregnancy, shouting the news and seeing his joy. I didn’t want to text him. It seemed too Teen Mom. Too impersonal for something so grand.
But regret eased as elation took me by surprise. I knew I wanted to be pregnant. I knew I wanted another baby more than anything in the world, but I didn’t know if it would feel just as moving, just as thrilling as the first time I found out. I was terrified it would lack the first kiss-type thrill of my previous pregnancy. I half expected, and prepped myself for the surge of panic regarding the impending sleepless nights, inconsolable crying, painful engorgement, projectile vomit, breastfeeding stress, and mesh hospital panties that accompany new babies. It didn’t come.
Instead, I stared down and felt certain that there are few signs in life sweeter than the plus of a positive pregnancy test. Those intersecting lines mark the crossing of two lives that are inextricably linked for the good, the bad, and the heart-wrenching. Regardless of when either of those lives ends, they cross forever.
I stared at those lines and prayed that they crossed for a long and healthy life, and not in a few short, nerve-wracking first trimester weeks.
I wistfully thought of the hundreds of lines they represent and we’ll cross with you new baby: The line into parenting two children, the line at the front door when we first bring you home, waiting for the school bus lines, everyday grocery shopping lines. And the bigger lines: The cruelty of others, heartbreaks, disappointments, mistakes, successes, loves, leaving home, the millions of lines that make up this crazy but beautiful life. And as I looked at those lines that I needed so badly to confirm my tell-tale pregnancy symptoms, I didn’t feel a twinge of nerves, just unadulterated joy.
I can’t wait to be a mom again, your mom, to keep another baby forever.