Tuesday, March 11, 2008

My Crock Pot



I don't even know how to start this one.

But yes, that is my uterus, my ultrasound, my little bean-shaped human in there. When I say I don't know how it happened other than the sheer biology of it, please take me at my word. This has been the strangest part of this journey yet. Out of the blue in January I missed a period and began counting backwards. Something I TOLD you I didn't do anymore, so I really had to think back as to my last period and approximate. Actually it was fairly easy as I was in Philadelphia visiting the in-laws and had to make Justin stop at the Rite-Aid on the way home from brunch with them our first day there. I am paranoid about feminine product disposal in other people's homes too, so that kind of burned in my brain as well. Don't want to flush them, for fear of backing up the toilet and flooding the place. So I wrap them in huge mittens of toilet paper and try to take the trash out when no one is looking. I know it seems ridiculous. I feel ridiculous just writing it.

So back to the counting, it became clear at 36 days that I was officially late. But this has happened to me many times before only to show up at the exact moment I come back from the drugstore with a $20 box of tests in my hand. So I was determined to ride it out and played the little fantasy game that all women who want to get pregnant play when they are late. What if...could it be...telling no one. It's too easy just to take a test at this point. I enjoyed the not-knowing because it allowed me to pretend if only for a few days that I was. It may seem like torture to you, but I can't explain the desire not to know because knowing in the past ulitmately led to the abrupt and disappointing end to the fun part of the game.

But when I got to day 39, having never gotten this far in my late day count before, I figured it was time to end the game and figure out if I was hitting early menopause. I have boxes of pregnancy tests and ovulation tests under my sink from back when I tracked so I didn't have to fork out another $20. Oh the wonder of seeing the double pink line of the First Response test showing up after so many years of the miserable, lonely single line. I had a glorious moment to myself, sitting on the toilet, staring and staring at that double line. I practically felt the heavens part and swear I heard Colonel Pickering singing that song from My Fair Lady - "Tonight old man, you did it! You did it! You did it! They said you couldn't do it and indeed you did!"

I took the test out to the the kitchen and watched from inside while Justin threw the ball in the yard for Gordon. Standing there watching him, I imagined his response, his surprise, how I would tell him. When he came in, I simply put the test in front of him and said nothing. His words after looking at it closely, and I quote were "What does this mean?" I should be more patient here, I think. Of course I know that there is a little grid next to the results clearly showing the pregnant, not pregnant option to the test. But he did graduate cum laude from law school for god's sake. I think they make these tests to accomodate people who can barely read.

"It means I'm pregnant," I say. He looks at it again more closely and says "Yeah. but this second line here is much lighter than the first... I don't know." This wasn't at all fulfilling the sweeping bear hug, rolling giggles, or shouts of excitement I had kind of envisioned in my whole Telling Justin Fantasy scenario. All it made me do was doubt that stupid second line and look at it more closely with him.

"It's there," I said firmly. "I'll take another test later when I have more pee." Squelched. But to be fair, by a man whose seen his fair share of my disappointed face after many years of fertility and adoption woes. It took three more tests and a few gallons of water to convince him, but in the end he succumbed, albeit never really reaching the heights of hilarity and swirly-twirly ecstasy my little brain had cooked up for this moment.

Between then and now the stories have piled up and I have so much more to tell. And it's only been 12 weeks. It was a wrench keeping quiet, but you know, I am 39 and really wasn't sure if this would be a pot sticker or not. I'm feeling a bit more confident now and welcome the chance to unload it in the blog. Who knew after all this time I'd be making my own B the G?

Saturday, March 1, 2008

I Know...I Know...

I've been awol again. All I can say is things have been percolating in the crock pot that is my life for the past several weeks. I do believe I will have some significant news this week on the B the G front and I look forward to sharing with all as soon as I get it. Stay tuned.....