Three and a Half Weeks.

I'd never really given much thought to what it would be like if and when I found out I was pregnant.  I can tell you, though, that the situation I was in when I got a positive result was not anything like I'd imagined.

I decided to take a pregnancy test after becoming very ill at work and then not feeling better for several days.  I was convinced it was just some sort of food-borne illness, but so many people had jokingly asked if I was pregnant that I began to sort of wonder.  I didn't think I was pregnant, but I didn't know I wasn't.  So while at home on Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I decided I'd take a test just to prove to myself that it really was a food-borne illness.

I carefully read the directions and then took the test.  I was expecting to wait the full five minutes for the results.  After all, that's what the directions told me to do.  However, within about fifteen seconds, two distinct lines were clearly visible.  I thought to myself, "Two?  Wait, I thought two means 'pregnant.' I must have read the directions wrong."  So I grabbed the instructions and reread them.  Then, I held the stick in one hand and the instructions in the other.  I kept looking back and forth between them with this inner dialogue going through my head: "My stick has two lines.  That's definitely two lines.  And they're both dark.  This picture on the instructions with two lines says 'Pregnant' underneath it.  And the picture with one line says, 'Not Pregnant.'  Unless I'm just really misreading this, I'm pregnant. WHAT??"  Then I remembered some statistic from some commercial that informed me that one in three women misreads a pregnancy test.  So, I decided I'd just start all over again.  You know, like how you count the money again just to make sure you got the right amount or how you rework the math problem to make sure you get the same answer.

I sat down on the bathroom floor, reread the directions, and took another test.  I got two lines again.  I stared at the pictures on the instructions again.  And then I thought, "I'm pregnant.  And Ray's in Alabama.  This is not how this was supposed to happen."  (Now, to be clear, "this" meant "how I found out I'm pregnant" - not "how I got pregnant."  I don't want any of you confused about that!)

In a daze, I walked to the living room and sat on the couch, still staring at the two positive tests.  Ray was working in Alabama in a fairly stressful course.  I briefly considered not telling him I was pregnant until he got home in three weeks.  I didn't want to add to his stress by throwing out such a life-changing fact over the phone when there was no way he could get home or really even talk to me too much.  His work schedule had him working very long hours, and I knew he wasn't getting much sleep.  After about five minutes of trying to decide whether or not to tell him, I concluded that I had to tell him over the phone.  Basically, this was huge news, and I had to tell someone.  And that someone needed to be my husband.  So, I called him and got his voice mail.  I don't even remember what I said, but I'm sure it was something like, "I need you to call me.  Immediately.  It's important.  Call me, okay?"  Then I sent him several text message that said the same thing - call me ASAP.  It's important.  And then I may have called him a couple more times and left increasingly frantic messages...

Fifteen long minutes later, Ray called.  I asked if he was alone and he said he was.  I just blurted out, "I'm pregnant."

He said, "You're what?"

I said, "Pregnant.  I'm pregnant.  Not joking." 

He whooped and said, "That's awesome, honey! That is so great!"

His reaction was amazing.  I apologized for telling him over the phone, and he told me I was being silly.  I confessed that I was excited, but I was also terrified and freaked out and overwhelmed.  After all, this was not the result I thought I'd get when I took the test, and it was all sort of unreal.  It was exciting news for sure, but it was also life-changing.  It's an awesome responsibility to be a parent.