Sunday, May 30, 2010

An anniversary of sorts

Twelve years ago this weekend, I was feeling peculiar. Food tasted funny, I was a little queasy, and I had inexplicably blossomed by a full bra size almost overnight. I also hadn't had my period since March, but had thought nothing of it until then, since I skipped at least one month out of every three anyway.

"Wouldn't it be funny if I were pregnant? Ha ha!" I said to my dad when he came over to our apartment that Saturday.

"Ha ha," he agreed.

"Hmm," said P.

"See you later," I said, and left to spend the day at a festival.

The following day, P, who had clearly been thinking about all this, said, "You know, maybe you ought to take a pregnancy test."

"I'm sure it's just a false alarm," I said.

"Take one anyway," he said.

So I went out and bought a pregnancy test, thinking that it was probably a waste of money. P and I had vague plans to have a baby in a few years, after I finished grad school (to which I'd just received my acceptance letter the previous week), but we certainly hadn't been trying to have one right then. This was bound to be a false alarm, I told myself, as I took my little white stick into the bathroom and got busy.

While I stood there watching the chemicals do their work, I heard the phone ring.

"Hello?" said P's muffled voice in the living room, just as the plus sign on the test finished turning bright pink.

Holy crap! I thought.

"Okay, hang on," said P, now right outside the bathroom.

"It's [friend's name]," he called through the door.

"Tell her it's not a good time!" I said. "Then come in here!"

"Oh my God," said P, coming in with the phone still in his hand and looking at the stick. "We're going to have a baby."

And that is how I found out I was pregnant with G. It wasn't planned, and at the time I thought I wasn't ready, but it turned out better than I could have imagined. Not only did we get G, in all her gorgeous, clever, delightful quirkiness, but had we waited, we might not have had any children: when the time we'd intended to "start trying" finally rolled around, P's health had deteriorated to the point that we probably would not have tried at all. Things really do have a way of working out, eventually. And sometimes even sooner than that.


Jen said...

Great story, well told. Things do have a way of working out, especially if you are open to seeing them that way. Being a sole parent is HARD, but I always think that being alone with nothing to show for the marriage, as is were, no legacy of my husband to watch grow, would be worse.

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