A Memoir, Part 1
While we're busy with unpacking and blogging is a little slow around here, I thought I would publish a series of posts that have been in my drafts for a while. It's an old story from my past. I've been tweaking and re-writing, unsure of whether I wanted to publish it... but I've decided to do it, for a variety of reasons. Perhaps I'll go into those reasons later, perhaps not. For now, enjoy the read, and I'll be back soon with pictures and updates.
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This is the story of my first pregnancy.
It was 2007. M and I were enjoying the summer after his first year of teaching. There were lazy days spent sleeping in, going to the beach, walking to the library, and "hermit-ing" (watching movies while eating homemade dinners in the tiny bedroom of our attic apartment, window air-conditioning unit humming).
There was also a date night, early in the summer, at a local barbeque restaurant. Among other topics, we discussed something that had been on our individual minds, but never spoken out loud... were we ready to start a family?
We had known several couples who had struggled with infertility. We decided that, if for some reason this was the case for us, and we might need to try for a year or more to get pregnant, we wanted to get started sooner rather than later. I don't think either of us felt ready for a baby right at that moment, but on the other hand, we didn't want to wait several years, either. As our pulled-pork sandwiches dwindled, we slowly came to the conclusion that we were ready to "let nature take its course". I think we were both prepared to wait at least six months before learning we were pregnant.
Fast forward about a month.
I finished my teaching for the day and came home. Since M was still at church working, I made myself a box of macaroni and cheese to eat for dinner. I sat down at the computer to play my favorite computer game, Roller Coaster Tycoon, while I waited for M to come home. (Does this give you an idea of how very young I was? I don't think I've played a computer game since before N was born.)
Before sitting down, I tossed a small bag I had bought at the store onto the computer table.
M came home and found me upstairs in our tiny bedroom, constructing amusement park rides on the computer in between mouthfuls of pasta. We greeted each other.
"What's that?" he asked, nodding toward the bag from the store.
"Uhhh... a pregnancy test," I replied.
"Wait... WHAT??? Why did you buy a pregnancy test?!?!?" His eyes were wide.
"Well... I'm a week late."
"What do you mean?? But... well... you're late sometimes, right?"
"Not really. Never like this. Never more than a day or two."
"So what? Did you take the test already?" He was confused and shocked.
"No, it says it's more accurate if I take it first thing in the morning."
"So... you'll probably wait a few more days before you take it, right? Just to be sure and all."
"I thought I would take it tomorrow morning."
"Okay." He chuckled. "Okay." He looked at me again. He chuckled again. Then he turned around and went downstairs to the kitchen to get himself some mac and cheese.
M does this thing where he laughs when he is a little bit nervous but also secretly excited.
He came back upstairs and tossed a DVD on the bed. "I stopped by the library on the way home. Want to watch this with me?" Deja Vu, starring Denzel Washington.
"Sure!" I replied.
(Ah, the carefree days before we had children! So much free time to waste watching terrible movies.)
So we settled in to watch the movie while M finished his pasta. Not another word was said about the pregnancy test. Even as we watched the movie (riveting though it was) my mind raced with possibilities, but I didn't dare to speak any of them to M. I willed myself to wait until the morning. As I laid on our bed with my head on M's chest, I felt his strong arm around me... heard the steady beating of his heart. The credits rolled and the Beach Boys crooned:
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This is the story of my first pregnancy.
It was 2007. M and I were enjoying the summer after his first year of teaching. There were lazy days spent sleeping in, going to the beach, walking to the library, and "hermit-ing" (watching movies while eating homemade dinners in the tiny bedroom of our attic apartment, window air-conditioning unit humming).
There was also a date night, early in the summer, at a local barbeque restaurant. Among other topics, we discussed something that had been on our individual minds, but never spoken out loud... were we ready to start a family?
We had known several couples who had struggled with infertility. We decided that, if for some reason this was the case for us, and we might need to try for a year or more to get pregnant, we wanted to get started sooner rather than later. I don't think either of us felt ready for a baby right at that moment, but on the other hand, we didn't want to wait several years, either. As our pulled-pork sandwiches dwindled, we slowly came to the conclusion that we were ready to "let nature take its course". I think we were both prepared to wait at least six months before learning we were pregnant.
Fast forward about a month.
I finished my teaching for the day and came home. Since M was still at church working, I made myself a box of macaroni and cheese to eat for dinner. I sat down at the computer to play my favorite computer game, Roller Coaster Tycoon, while I waited for M to come home. (Does this give you an idea of how very young I was? I don't think I've played a computer game since before N was born.)
Before sitting down, I tossed a small bag I had bought at the store onto the computer table.
M came home and found me upstairs in our tiny bedroom, constructing amusement park rides on the computer in between mouthfuls of pasta. We greeted each other.
"What's that?" he asked, nodding toward the bag from the store.
"Uhhh... a pregnancy test," I replied.
"Wait... WHAT??? Why did you buy a pregnancy test?!?!?" His eyes were wide.
"Well... I'm a week late."
"What do you mean?? But... well... you're late sometimes, right?"
"Not really. Never like this. Never more than a day or two."
"So what? Did you take the test already?" He was confused and shocked.
"No, it says it's more accurate if I take it first thing in the morning."
"So... you'll probably wait a few more days before you take it, right? Just to be sure and all."
"I thought I would take it tomorrow morning."
"Okay." He chuckled. "Okay." He looked at me again. He chuckled again. Then he turned around and went downstairs to the kitchen to get himself some mac and cheese.
M does this thing where he laughs when he is a little bit nervous but also secretly excited.
He came back upstairs and tossed a DVD on the bed. "I stopped by the library on the way home. Want to watch this with me?" Deja Vu, starring Denzel Washington.
"Sure!" I replied.
(Ah, the carefree days before we had children! So much free time to waste watching terrible movies.)
So we settled in to watch the movie while M finished his pasta. Not another word was said about the pregnancy test. Even as we watched the movie (riveting though it was) my mind raced with possibilities, but I didn't dare to speak any of them to M. I willed myself to wait until the morning. As I laid on our bed with my head on M's chest, I felt his strong arm around me... heard the steady beating of his heart. The credits rolled and the Beach Boys crooned:
Don't worry babyyyyy
everything will turn out alright
Don't worry babyyyy
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When my eyes opened the next morning, it was early, but I could already feel adrenaline in my bloodstream. I had to use the bathroom. Urgently. I grabbed the test from the computer table and trotted downstairs.
(Yes, living in an apartment where the single bathroom was downstairs and our bedroom upstairs was a big pain. Especially when I was 9 months pregnant, couldn't climb stairs without getting winded, and getting up several times a night to use the bathroom. But that's another story.)
My hands were shaking as I tore open the pregnancy test and fumbled with the instructions. I had to figure this thing out before I wet myself.
I managed to get the package open and took the test. Almost before I was finished, an unmistakable plus sign appeared.
I started to shake violently.
The instructions said to wait three minutes. So, I waited three minutes, shaking the whole time, for the plus sign to turn into a minus sign. (That never happens, by the way. I know that now.)
It didn't.
Still shaking, I paced around the kitchen a bit. Then I went back upstairs to tell M. He was still sound asleep.
I couldn't wait. I crawled back into bed with him. I think my shaking woke him up. He rolled over, "Morning..." he mumbled.
"I'm pregnant." I whispered.
His eyes flew open. "Wha?!?" Poor M.
"The test. It's positive."
"Wait, you took it already? I thought... What???"
I dragged him out of bed and brought him downstairs. I showed him the plus sign.
He was still so sleepy and confused.
"Wait... where did you buy this test?"
"Wal-mart," I answered.
"Wal-mart??!!"
"They were too expensive at the drug store!" I protested.
"But... what if it's a cheap test, and it's wrong?"
"I have another one I can take."
"No, no, no..." he rubbed his forehead, and scratched his sleep-matted hair. "Let's just call the doctor."
So I did. But I didn't call my OB/GYN, I called my family doctor. Have you gotten the message yet that I was pretty clueless?
They got me an appointment right away. I think the receptionist could hear the anxiety in my voice. M and I jumped in the car. He started the engine. The radio was on, and again the Beach Boys reassured us:
We looked at each other. I half-smiled. M chuckled.
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To be continued...
They got me an appointment right away. I think the receptionist could hear the anxiety in my voice. M and I jumped in the car. He started the engine. The radio was on, and again the Beach Boys reassured us:
Don't worry babyyyyy
everything will turn out alright
Don't worry babyyyy
We looked at each other. I half-smiled. M chuckled.
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To be continued...
Ab, you are a great writer. Thanks for sharing these :)
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