Pink line fever

“I am insanely nauseous,” I said, dropping the groceries as I walked in the door.
“Poor thing,” Learner Dad said distractedly, eyeing off the bags of food.
Then his eyes flew up to meet mine in a panic.
“Don’t worry, it can’t be that,” I said reassuringly.
But I’d thought it too.
In fact the thought had followed me around the supermarket.
What if I was pregnant?
After the failed IUD, I’d hopped on the mini-pill.
Plus I was breastfeeding.
So logic said it wasn’t likely.
But, having had two surprise pregnancies before, I wasn’t listening to logic.
As I walked around the supermarket, burping quietly, I was listening to the products on the shelves – the coffee that made me want to gag, the soft cheeses whispering ‘don’t come over here’, the ginger ale that screamed ‘drink me, drink me now’.
I only remembered feeling this kind of nausea twice before and both times involved growing a human being inside my belly.
“Your tummy does look kind of fuller,” Learner Dad said later, reaching out to touch it.
When I still felt ill the next day, he went out and got a pregnancy test.
We made small talk, trying not to look at the clock as we counted down the three minutes.
“How about I check it?” he asked.
Considering I’d checked the past two positive ones, we decided this was a good idea.
You see, we were barracking for a single line.
A negative result.
Lumping Li’l Fatty with a brother or sister as a first birthday present just didn’t seem fair.
Not to mention what it might mean for Master Seven.
Or for our bank account.
“Do you really think we could be?” Learner Dad asked as we entered the bathroom.
“Nah,” I replied, failing to mention I’d already mentally re-planned our bedrooms and picked out a boy’s name.
I can’t remember who checked it first. I only remember seeing a distinct single line.
And, although I stared at it for another five minutes, no other line appeared.
“Phew, that was a season defining moment,” Learner Dad declared.
I looked at him questioningly.
“I meant ‘life’ defining,” he said sheepishly, and we both laughed, tension gone.
“It sure was,” I agreed.
“Now, about my big tummy…”

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Pink line fever

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s