Two little lines. Or it could be a plus sign. In my situation it was the appearance of two little blue lines that changed everything; nothing will ever be the same, and yet I wouldn’t have it any other way!
The appearance of two lines means you are pregnant, one line: no go. Seeing the two little lines would have once terrified me: in my twenties, or before I felt remotely ready (I am not sure anyone is ever really ready are they?), or before I found the right person. Over a year ago those two lines would have been part of a bad dream for me. And yet ever since I met Jon I could see those two little lines as part of a dream for us. We talked early on about how much we both wanted kids, and we consciously decided to try early, just in case like some, it took awhile. Well we didn’t need to worry about that happening! It took my mother all of three months to get pregnant after going off the pill, and my grandmother had nine children, so I am not quite sure where I got the idea that I wasn’t fertile. But when you want something so bad, you scare yourself into thinking it can’t possibly come true. At least that’s how my overly neurotic mind works.
So I had prepared myself for months of trying, for the initial disappointment that it wasn’t happening quickly, before trying to see the silver lining that not being pregnant right away meant I could still enjoy red wine while eating Brie cheese, and get sushi and drink beer. I could even try harder to lose weight (the wine, cheese, sushi and beer usually counteracted my feeble attempts to lose weight). I imagined the heartache of waiting more than awhile to get pregnant, and the enjoyment of that silver lining dwindling every month that passed by without a positive pregnancy test. I have heard friends stress about when they would get pregnant, wonder why their attempts weren’t working. I have read multiple pregnancy blogs since I got pregnant describing the disappointment of trying and waiting to conceive. But Jon and I were spared all this, as we got pregnant all of a second after taking the goalie out (or for Jon, the keeper).
I know how very lucky we are. But in the same way, it made for quite the surprise. I had prepared myself for not getting pregnant right away, but I had not readied myself for such a quick positive result. I had a few glasses of wine with my girlfriends when we went home to visit that weekend. The next morning my mom looked at me making sick faces at my bacon and eggs and asked: “Did you get your period?” I laughed and said it was coming right away (I honestly just thought I had a hangover from two glasses of wine). When my mom said this, I didn’t look over to catch the look on Jon’s face (he wouldn’t have been shocked by my mom’s comment; he knows there is nothing off limits with us two), but I wasn’t worried yet. When I had to ask him to pull over on the side of the road on our way back to Estevan that afternoon, I started telling myself that I couldn’t be feeling pregnancy sickness this quick, it takes time before you feel nauseous and dizzy doesn’t it!? The next day when my period was still M.I.A., I felt like I had the flu, but my boobs felt unimaginably sore (even more sore than the monthly sore-as-rocks feeling), I had to accept that I was most likely pregnant. When Jon and I drove to get tests from the pharmacy, we had reached silent agreement that we were expecting.
But still, seeing those two little lines was the confirmation we needed. I took two tests. So we saw four little blue lines in all. At the sight of them, holding them out so Jon could see, I balled (not a surprise) but couldn’t utter a word (that is surprising, something making me speechless!).
Now I am thirteen weeks, and it definitely feels real. The sore boobs have subsided slightly, the nausea got better, then worse, then better, and I feel almost like my normal self again. I had hoped to feel amazing the second I passed 12 weeks, as some women say they felt great in their second trimester. But I am still so tired. I have always been on the lazy side but this ridiculous: just getting through a day of work is all I can do. I wish I could go to sleep every night at 8 p.m. and sleep blissfully through until 7 a.m. It’s the constant peeing that really gets me (yes it has subsided but I know it returns in the third trimester!). Again, I always peed a lot, so it shouldn’t have shocked me so much. But when you can’t go to sleep at 8 p.m. like you’d like to because you have to make 5-10 trips to the bathroom in the span of two hours, you end up shouting: “Screw this pregnancy business,” at your boyfriend, with his perfectly functioning bladder. He is spared the first-hand knowledge of what a pain in the ass pregnancy can be, but he knows from my whining and crying and loud ugly dry heaving that it is not all it’s cracked up to be. He keeps saying sympathetically that this little pea, or raspberry, or kumquat (whatever fruit its size is equated to depending on the week) has a lot of explaining to do once he or she arrives.
Then we went for our first ultrasound. While we already knew the sickness and fatigue was worth it, as long as our baby was healthy, the images of a tiny person (albeit alien-like) floating peacefully inside me was visual confirmation of this sentiment. At 12 weeks, little lime couldn’t be blamed for the mornings I cried to Jon that I couldn’t possibly go to work feeling so sick, or for the time I puked in the parking lot outside the hockey rink on an attempted “date night,” or for the new roundness my belly had suddenly taken on (although I would have to to thank babes at some point for giving me an excuse to ditch Spanx for six months!). At times I felt I had become a selfish, sniveling shadow of my former self, seemingly fixated only on how horrible I felt. And I had drove Jon crazy worrying that the baby wasn’t ok, even when the sickness should have given me reassurance. But for little lime, as well as my myself, all was forgiven. Nothing mattered but the image of our baby, and the look in Jon’s eyes as he watched in amazement. I write this with tears in my eyes because it is the most satisfying sight of my life thus far: seeing that something Jon and I created together is living and breathing, safe and sound in my belly.
3 thoughts on “Two little lines…”
I’m certainly not pregnant and even I teared up at the end. I cannot wait to see you and give you a great big hug! You are such an incredible woman, I’m so happy for you both!
….and happy you’re writing again!
Great blog honey. Keep writing.