I may not be good at much, but I am really good at getting pregnant. Sure, I only have a 50% retention rate, but infertile, I am not. In July, Dan and I marked our four year wedding anniversary, and in that time I have been pregnant four times.
I really liked being pregnant the first time. But by the time my pregnancy with Gavin came along, I was pretty tired of the whole thing. Pregnancy is exhausting, but pregnancy while looking after a child is something else entirely. Still, pregnancy does have a few things going for it:
- No more that time of the month. Sure, pregnancy hormones can be so out of control that it feels like you’re PMSing for a full nine months, but at least my Dad isn’t asking me if I’m on my period to explain any of my entirely normal emotional responses to things.
- It is the one time in your life you actually look forward to gaining weight. Oh that little bump? It is a baby! Not that burrito I just had for lunch…
- You never need to wonder if your most recent snuggle with your husband might accidentally affect the next eighteen years of your life.
I have always been an expect the best, prepare for the worst kind of girl. During the first year of my marriage I went through a lot of home pregnancy tests. We were mostly careful, but I was raised being taught that abstinence was the only 100% effective birth control. Even though I never expected a positive test (even when I first got one!), I still needed to be sure.
It has been over a year since I last took the home pregnancy test that introduced me to my Gavin. It was nice to go so long without needing to stock up on First Response boxes to appease my crazy tendencies. I’ve tried to be good. I haven’t even let my husband’s joking convince me that I might be pregnant again. “Don’t worry. If I’m pregnant, I’ll know,” I tell him. Not crazy. Totally not home pregnancy test hoarding crazy.
That all stopped last week.
I told you I had the flu. What I didn’t tell you was that my first thought upon feeling nauseated was whether or not I might be pregnant.
My flu was extremely flu-like. Eating an apple didn’t help the nausea go away. I had a fever and aches and pains that were definitely indicative of an actual illness and not a little being using my body as a host. All signs pointed to FLU! I mean, I’m still exclusively breastfeeding. I’m pretty sure I’m not even fertile yet.
But what if?
So I went to the store. I picked up a pregnancy test. Okay. I picked up multiple pregnancy tests. Because now that we’ve let the crazy out of the bag, it won’t be contained.
And then I texted my husband a picture of the result. Because I’m cruel like that.
PS. I’m not pregnant.
How often do you take pregnancy tests? Do you take them a little too often, like I do? Or do you hold off until you probably already know the answer?