February 20, 2009

It was Friday and a particularly bad day at work. I stared at my cases piling up on my desk, jammed into the cabinets and tried ignoring the red blinking glow of my answering machine just as my boss knocked on my door, stuck her head in and told me I was getting four more cases transferred to me the next morning. With a sigh I consulted my planner trying to ignore the circles on the corner. . . my period was 16 days late. I remember feeling frustration bubble up inside of me. Metformin regulated my cycles for two months and now this? A 45 day cycle with no period in sight? That evening as I drove home I listened to my voice messages. A friend I threw a baby shower for called to thank me, I can't wait until its your turn! I remember I started laughing at her timing. Shoot me now I thought.

I called Jack on the drive home and we agreed to an evening of sushi and hookah. As I neared home I considered the evening of raw fish and tobacco and thought, maybe I should test, you know, just in case. I told Jack I was making a detour to Walgreens. He got annoyed. You're not pregnant! You waste too much money on those tests and I don't want you to ruin your weekend getting sad. I knew he was right, but I bought the three pack. Figured I'd be testing over the next few days since that was my typical mode of operation.

I came home. I put my purse down. Jack was napping on the couch. I remember feeling heavy. A heaviness from my head down to my toes as I unwrapped the test. I took the test and set it on the sink as I had countless times before. I watched as the control line reddened and looked at the blank slate next to it as I had countless times, hundreds of dollars worth of times, willing a second line to appear- except this time- it appeared.

My hands shook well before my brain received the message. I shrieked and jumped to my feet. Jack came rushing in. I showed it to him. No he said, its a fluke. I tested again, this time with a digital: Pregnant.

I cried and hugged Jack. I called my mother. I'm pregnant. I remember thinking: Its over. The struggle is over. I'm done waiting. I felt such a sigh of relief. I felt heaviness exit my body and lightness take over. Nothing could have made me happier in that moment.

Though I ultimately lost that baby, that moment ranks as one of the most beautiful of my life. I still have that test. Its buried at the bottom of our bills drawer, but I can't seem to throw it away because it reminds me of that day. One of the most beautiful in my life. The loss that followed cannot take away the pure joy of that particular moment in time.