Mystify me

Since I didn't blog or journal or anything during my pregnancy, I might as well blog about it after the fact. When I feel like. Before I forget the whole ordeal entirely.

It was about year ago that the unthinkable happened. Try as I might, I still can't wrap my mind around it. Which isn't saying a whole hell of a lot, since my mind isn't as flexible as it used to be.

Somewhere in late Sept. 2003: As my period approached, I remember thinking that these were the worst damn cramps I'd ever had. True, I'd been off the pill that month, but even so, I usually have pretty mild periods. The cramps were unusual and dammit they hurt. The cramps kept it up for about a week, but still no period. And I'm never late. Early? Sure. Late? Never.

So during one of my innumerable trips to Wal-Mart, I decided. I decided. to. Test. Despite the fact that I had no pregnancy symptoms whatsoever. Despite the fact that I didn't really recall having much sex the month previous. I was cheered to see that a store brand hpt was only going to set me back about $4. I mentally note what a good deal that is. I could test once a month for less than $50/year if I wanted to. And there was a time when I did, you know, want to. But I'm much more sane now than I was then, kinda, sorta, and I only let myself buy one test. The Cheap One. And, I'm so confident that this test will be negative that I also pick up some pads while I'm there, in a higher absorbency than usual. 'Cause these cramps are killing me, in case I hadn't mentioned that, and surely that must be a sign of that the motherfucker of all periods is on its way.

So, I go home and put away the groceries. Then I remember! I bought an hpt today! I could test! As a former hpt-addict, this is a highlight! Except I don't really have to pee. Well, now that I've finally remembered that I have the test, I don't really want to wait. I weigh options of squeezing out very little pee vs. risk of diluted urine from consuming too much fluids too rapidly thereby getting false negative result. Remember that my results are always negative and that they've never been so "falsely" thus far. And then I recall that test just cost $4, so can definitely afford another test, should I decide I need it. So, guzzle some iced tea in careless abandon. Guzzle some more, just to make sure there's enough pee. And to also make sure that I can fall back on that "false negative due to diluted urine" excuse to make myself feel better when I just see one line.

Then while I'm waiting for the iced tea to morph its way into pee, I get to watching me some Trading Spaces and it is VERN and I love him (and if I wasn't already married, then he'd be the father of my children, I swear it). And I forget about the test, and I go pee in the bathroom where you can still see the tv from the toilet 'cause I don't want to miss a second of the Vern goodness. So, somewhere in the neighborhood of watching a Law & Order rerun I remember that I forgot to test. So, I drink some more iced tea and am thankful that I think that I'm probably not pregnant so that I don't have to worry about caffeine. While I'm brushing my teeth, I remember the test again, and I really do have to pee now, so I go ahead and take it. I set it in the bathroom cabinet to "cook" while I brush my teeth, as I decide that I'm not really in the mood to see just the one line 'cause that will make me all "depressed 'cause I Failed" and other shit like that.

So I've changed into my pajamas and am completely ready for bed when I remember that I left the test cooking in the bathroom cabinet. I look at the result, see two lines and immediately think:

FUCK!

This cheap generic test is defective.

I decide not to tell dh the news right away. So, five minutes later I run downstairs and blurt it all out, whilst waving the defective generic test stick soaked with urine in his face. He concurs that the test is defective and immediately drives the five miles back to Wal-Mart. Later, he returns with a 3 pack of First Response. By tomorrow morning (when all three of those are positive), we're both convinced that First Response tests just aren't the same quality they used to be, since all these are obviously defective too.

And that, my 3 readers, is how we learned that baby C was on the way. Who'da thunk it?