I hadn’t been feeling well all week. After a long weekend at Maker Faire, I figured I’d just overdone myself and that a seizure was on the way. But as the week went on the exhaustion just wouldn’t subside, no seizure came, and I was weirdly adversive to some of my favorite foods.
…. wait a minute.
I thought about it for a few days before finally buying that new box of pregnancy tests. Oliver and I were set to go out of town for the long weekend to celebrate our 6 year anniversary. And those two dreadful words (“not pregnant”) just always made me so emotional. So here was my thought process: take the test Thursday, have it say “not pregnant”, cry, get over it, have a nice weekend with the hubby.
So I did it… and waited. And waited some more. Then a little longer. (ever notice how those 2 minutes feel like HOURS?!?!)
… it said pregnant.
I stared in disbelief for what must have been a minute. Then I began to shake, cry and had to hold myself up on the bathroom counter for fear of falling.
I took another test that evening… because I didn’t believe it. But it said the same thing. I would wait till morning to tell Oliver.