Monday, March 30, 2009

Do what now?

A few months ago I decided to go off birth control because Paul and I were in the pre-pre-pregnancy planning stages. We weren't quite ready to start officially trying, but I had had some issues in the past that I thought would present problems for getting the seed planted, as it were. I figured the first thing to do was to go off the pill and see how well my system was able to get itself regulated all on its own.

For two months everything worked like clockwork and I was thrilled with how it all seemed to be going. Then all of a sudden, my lady time was a week or so late, and I was totally dejected. I had thought my au naturel plan was going so well and here I was already going off the rails.

I flirted with the idea of taking a pregnancy test, just so I could rule that out as possibly having anything to do with anything. Finally last Tuesday at lunch I found myself at the CVS downstairs from my office buying makeup and cigarettes (I kid) and I wandered over to the "Family Planning" aisle. "I'll just see how much they cost," I thought. I started perusing the various tests and they had one brand on sale that came with two in the box, which seemed like a decent bargain. (Not that I had anything to compare it to.) I decided to go ahead with that brand, but as of course as I was standing there comparison shopping I noticed a woman from work observing my pregnancy test Price-is-Right exercise and then hurrying away as though she hadn't noticed. Great. This is how rumors get started.

I bought the test and forgot all about it until I got home later that night. Paul had cooked dinner and was in a foul mood, possibly because he is no Galloping Gourmet, or possibly because he finished grad school in December and no real job prospects have presented themselves, at least not any that don't require polyester uniforms or working knowledge of Amway products. Just for lack of anything better to do, I went in to do the test. I didn't even tell him I was doing it, I just left the little stick on top of the cabinet and went about my evening. After a half hour or so I remembered that it was in there and went to check it and, I thought, throw it away. (I wasn't sure but it didn't seem like the kind of thing you could recycle, especially since I'd already peed on it.)

In the little window where there was supposed to be nothing were two distinct pink lines. Two distinct pink lines means pregnant. "What a piece of crap," I thought. I'd just taken it out of the package and already it was broken!

I came out of the bathroom brandishing the stick and showed it to Paulie.

"What is that?" he said.
"It's a pregnancy test," I told him.
"What are you doing with it?" he asked me.
"I peed on it and it says I'm pregnant," I said. "It's broken!"
"Are you fucking with me?" he asked me.
"I know I'm an evil genius, honey, but I don't know how to fake a pregnancy test."
"You didn't put a sticker or something on there?"
"No. I have no stickers."

We stared at each other for a while with the kinds of facial expressions I imagine tourists wear when they're trying to ask for directions in the remotest parts of China.

"I have another one," I said. "I could take that one."
"Yes, take the other one. You should take the other one."
"I don't have to pee again though."
"Okay, drink something and then go take the second one."

Whereupon I reached for the beer I had been drinking with dinner.

"DON'T DRINK THAT! GAHHHH! AUGGHGH!"

Paul pumped me full of (plain, uncaffeinated, alcohol-free) water and in the meantime we googled "home pregnancy test false positives". We basically discovered that they don't do that.

Finally I had to go again. Before I even had my pants up the two bright pink lines appeared.

"We're having a baby," I said.

Oh, baby.