While we wait some more…
I’m taking today as a day of rest…from worrying. In part because you guys totally set my mind at ease regarding this first number (you utterly rock!), in part because I want to squeeze as much joy from this experience as I can, given how tenuous it is. So I’m doing my best not to think ahead, either by imagining the best or by imagining the worst. Which is not to say I don’t do both, but I try to quiet those thoughts.
Meanwhile, I’ve been ruminating on the following since Tuesday morning.
1. I was amazed at how posting that positive test made me feel instantly like a horrible pariah in blogolandytown. I wish one person’s happiness didn’t exacerbate another person’s sadness, but I know (from personal experience) that it can, if only for a moment. If you feel left behind and like your turn will never come, all I can really say is that I felt the same way on Monday. And that I might be back in the trenches with you on Friday.
2. I’d noticed that women who had a positive often started posting only short, informative updates. I was like don’t they want to share every last nuance of their feelings? Now I know that (1) above might be part of it–a fear of positing things that will be like stabby stabs in the hearts of those you’ve come to love. And there’s the fear that speaking of IT will cause IT to evaporate. Also, most of those women probably have lives. NOT ME, man!
3. On a related note, I’d wondered why few women ever tell the story of sharing the result with their partners. Now I think it might be because of the stabby stabs. Or it might feel like a private moment to some women, or a moment that is difficult to capture, or a moment that involves URINE so is not all that pretty….
But I want to tell. So if you’re not up for being stabbed in the heart, stop here and go look at this adorable shrew.
Telling Mr. Bunny. You know, I’ve fantasized about the experience of telling my husband I was pregnant more times than…than there are numbers for. (To find out how I had a chemical pregnancy without having this experience, go here.) It’s a fantasy that always brought tears to my eyes. I would come out of the bathroom and show him the positive test. He’d leap up and enfold me in a loving embrace. We’d weep. I sure would, anyway. Unicorns would leap through misty rainbows all over the place. Kittens made of solid gold would rain from the sky. Something like that. The reality was totally unromantic: Awake at 3am while husband is out of town. Take test. See faint line. Absorb implications. E-mail photo of positive test to husband with explanation of what he’s looking at and instructions to call. Wait…Wait… At 7, text husband: WAKE UP! CHECK YOUR E-MAIL! Husband calls. Have silly, incoherent conversation with husband, who is sitting on a bench across from a Dunkin’ Donuts, several states away, trying to hear me over the noise of passing cars. No golden kittens, no misty rainbows. But somehow perfectly perfect for us. I guess joy can make anything pretty.