Tuesday, October 8, 2013


Earlier this summer I was scratching my head a bit. Eve's monthly curse was two days late. I went back to my calendar and my notes and recounted. Hmm. Very suspicious.

Two days later, I was still feeling fine. At night I went online to google how far along one needed to be for a pregnancy test to be effective. Then promptly deleted my search history.

The next morning I woke up before the sun did. I was five days overdue and knew what this meant . . . theoretically. But existentially: How was I even here? I mean, I wasn't supposed to have even gotten married. Much less lucky enough to get pregnant.

I was staring at the ceiling with no chance of falling back asleep. So I got up and drove to Walgreen's for a prego test, hoping I wouldn't run into anyone we knew. BTW, picking one of those things off the shelf is the weirdest thing ever.

Ryan was still sleeping when I crept back into the house and locked myself in the bathroom. Wrappers are so loud! I read the directions about three times over. It said to give the test three minutes to formulate a result.

Mine turned positive immediately.

I sat on the edge of the tub and just stared at the little pink + for while. Honestly, the test didn't surprise me. It more just confirmed my gut feeling.

Or it could be molar.

I threw it all in the trash, tied up the bag, and took it outside to the can. No evidence.

We ended up going out to the beach that afternoon, which was perfect. I wanted to tell Ryan the news at some place relaxing and private. And I feel like Fort Pickens is our place. We've had our hottest date there as well as one of our worst arguments. And plenty of camp outs and beach trips in between. I've wondered at times, if I ever miscarried, where to bury the body. And I think it should be out by one of the batteries. Except I'm sure there's some federal law against that, so kid you'd better stick around.

We were both in the water and Ryan was wondering aloud our evacuation plans in case of the zombie apocalypse. What will our parents do? Who will go where? Which family do we follow?

Our parents will do whatever they do, I said. We're married now. You're my primary family. We do what's best for our family--us.

~ ~ waves ~ ~

Oh, and by the way, I went to Walgreen's this morning.

Yeah, I heard you get up.

I got a pregnancy test.

Oh my God. Are you pregnant?

{Nod of head}

Ryan threw down his cigarette and hugged me.

For real? How far along are you?

About five weeks*

Oh shit.

Back on the beach, Ryan was already planning ahead. Our kid was going to be like this girl:

And he's going to take Judo or whatever. And she is going to be disciplined, not like so and so's brats. And suddenly homeschool wasn't quite the evil word it used to be. (But hush; it's still very bad).

Oh the idealism of first time parents.

(*And by the way, it's not molar. Also--and this really confused me at first--traditional pregnancy dating assumes you don't know when you ovulate, so it includes the two weeks most women have before conception. So being five weeks pregnant by common speak means that the baby is really only three weeks old.)


  1. Old enough to choose one fantastic set of parents! Congratulations you two!

    Love the Great Aunt Alex

  2. Yayay!! Congratulations Elizabeth!!

  3. BFP = "Bad Family Planning"? "Bitchin' Family Planning"? "Blessed Family Planning"? "Botched Family Planning"?

    1. Oh. Big Fat Positive [pregnancy test]. Abbreviation common to some pregnancy forums.

  4. This post is so YOU. and I love it.

    Congrats again! : )

  5. Yay! So exciting! :-)

  6. HOW did I miss this post???!!!! Love it. Especially Ryan's reaction.