Tested
Didn't that last post just make you wonder? What could possibly keep me from spouting something? I mean, I'm the one that talks about everything: from chin hairs to books to social commentary. And I'm sure you were asking yourself how I could put you on hold, right? Admit it, you waited with bated breath. FRN, I know you did. Well, read on, but do not judge.
The short story is this: I took a pregnancy test.
I usually don't need to take pregnancy tests. We've had this conversation before, the blog and I, but let me remind you that my cycle is a pretty regular textbook type of 28 days. Well, it used to be anyway, and once I knew the signs and symptoms of ovulation and all the rest, it was pretty easy to not get pregnant. Until Melina. The anomaly. The one conceived even when there were no signs of ovulation. The result of a union on day 6 when I never ovulated before day 15 (did I forget to mention that there would be some TMI in this post?) Our miracle baby.
While I cannot imagine a life without Melina (who can, really), since that time, I won't let Tim near me without proper protection. I don't care if ovulation occurred 5 days ago. If I am not a day or two away from my period, the hat must stay on. But a little while ago, 9 days to be exact, the hat did not need to stay on. And so it didn't, and I didn't worry until 3 days after my period was due.
What? I thought to myself. I had the premenstrual symptoms: a little cramping, some heartburn. So where was George? Could I have miscalculated? Did I look at the wrong date and only think that my period was due? Had we indeed had relations at what I would consider the wrong time of the month? Should I take a pregnancy test?
My rational self told my insecure self to stuff it. Look at the calendar again, rational self said. Right there. You can see the writing. You're fine. But insecure self took to the plate again and batted the ball out of the park. Your cycle has been changing. Maybe you didn't get it right. Maybe, just maybe, you are pregnant.
The thought of being pregnant permeated my entire day. Who am I kidding? It permeated a couple of my days. How would I handle having child number 5? And what if 5 turned out to be 6? I am nearing 40, you know, so multiple eggs might have been released. The thought of twins again tormented me (even though our twins were actually pretty easy to take care of), and while I am sorry to admit it, I need to tell the truth: there is a reason we only have 4 kids. It's simple, really. I am done bearing children. Or so I thought. Despite the fact that many people feel as though they will accept as many children as God gives them, I am not one of them. I do not have enough faith in God to know that we'd be able to provide for them all; I do not have enough faith in myself to be mentally stable and present for more children than we now have; I do not have enough faith that my body would even be able to sustain another healthy pregnancy.
On my long run this morning, which I figured I better try to get in because if I was indeed pregnant, the days of long runs would be dwindling, I just about had everything figured out. The baby would be born in September, after the kids had gone back to school. I'd quit teaching for a while, and try to concentrate on book writing and keeping myself sane while adjusting to another child. By the time I got to mile 5 I had moved Melina and Aaron into the same room and figured out how to borrow a crib and a car seat. Maternity clothes? I'd just go to Goodwill. But we would need to buy a new car, probably a Suburban.
After my class today, I stopped and bought a pregnancy test. I really didn't think it would be positive. I had no symptoms other than no period. But I thought, I need to do this, just to know. So I did.
And now, we have errands to run this week. I need to go get some more tampons. Tim needs to go get a vasectomy.
The short story is this: I took a pregnancy test.
I usually don't need to take pregnancy tests. We've had this conversation before, the blog and I, but let me remind you that my cycle is a pretty regular textbook type of 28 days. Well, it used to be anyway, and once I knew the signs and symptoms of ovulation and all the rest, it was pretty easy to not get pregnant. Until Melina. The anomaly. The one conceived even when there were no signs of ovulation. The result of a union on day 6 when I never ovulated before day 15 (did I forget to mention that there would be some TMI in this post?) Our miracle baby.
While I cannot imagine a life without Melina (who can, really), since that time, I won't let Tim near me without proper protection. I don't care if ovulation occurred 5 days ago. If I am not a day or two away from my period, the hat must stay on. But a little while ago, 9 days to be exact, the hat did not need to stay on. And so it didn't, and I didn't worry until 3 days after my period was due.
What? I thought to myself. I had the premenstrual symptoms: a little cramping, some heartburn. So where was George? Could I have miscalculated? Did I look at the wrong date and only think that my period was due? Had we indeed had relations at what I would consider the wrong time of the month? Should I take a pregnancy test?
My rational self told my insecure self to stuff it. Look at the calendar again, rational self said. Right there. You can see the writing. You're fine. But insecure self took to the plate again and batted the ball out of the park. Your cycle has been changing. Maybe you didn't get it right. Maybe, just maybe, you are pregnant.
The thought of being pregnant permeated my entire day. Who am I kidding? It permeated a couple of my days. How would I handle having child number 5? And what if 5 turned out to be 6? I am nearing 40, you know, so multiple eggs might have been released. The thought of twins again tormented me (even though our twins were actually pretty easy to take care of), and while I am sorry to admit it, I need to tell the truth: there is a reason we only have 4 kids. It's simple, really. I am done bearing children. Or so I thought. Despite the fact that many people feel as though they will accept as many children as God gives them, I am not one of them. I do not have enough faith in God to know that we'd be able to provide for them all; I do not have enough faith in myself to be mentally stable and present for more children than we now have; I do not have enough faith that my body would even be able to sustain another healthy pregnancy.
On my long run this morning, which I figured I better try to get in because if I was indeed pregnant, the days of long runs would be dwindling, I just about had everything figured out. The baby would be born in September, after the kids had gone back to school. I'd quit teaching for a while, and try to concentrate on book writing and keeping myself sane while adjusting to another child. By the time I got to mile 5 I had moved Melina and Aaron into the same room and figured out how to borrow a crib and a car seat. Maternity clothes? I'd just go to Goodwill. But we would need to buy a new car, probably a Suburban.
After my class today, I stopped and bought a pregnancy test. I really didn't think it would be positive. I had no symptoms other than no period. But I thought, I need to do this, just to know. So I did.
And now, we have errands to run this week. I need to go get some more tampons. Tim needs to go get a vasectomy.
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