I'm on a trip to New York City and even though my husband isn't with me I brought along a pregnancy test. We've been trying for 18 months and this month we tried something new to help us, so I thought, just maybe this month. Wouldn't it be kind of neat and romantic to have a pregnancy test in New York City on a trip?
So I brought the really early kind, because it was a few days before I expected my period. So when it is negative, I am not surprised, nor disheartened.
Same results. Damn!
I took another test, because I am anxious to know. I sit it down and go about my business. By the time I come back - there it was! A big fat positive! I am so excited! I can't tell my husband just yet. This will be our last baby and I have to do it in some really, cool and memorable way. One more pregnancy test, just to make sure...Yep, it's positive too!
Two more pregnancy tests, just in case - both positive. I'm on a roll!
Another couple of pregnancy tests - all positive. How will I tell him? I'm excited. I call a friend and talk to her. After my husband and I got home from a wedding, I put a positive pregnancy test in my shirt band and give him a hug, "What's that in your pocket?" he asks. He reaches it for it and a huge grin appears - "It's positive!"
Today I buy more pregnancy tests, I say it's for research. Yeah, personal research. It's just so darned exciting. All positive. I decide to have blood work done, big surprise - positive and a great hCG number to boot!
So my friends come over for a get together. It was low key and we were just hanging out, and without meaning to, I tell them all my good news. They are so excited for me. I've never been this happy about telling anyone (except my husband). I feel so wonderful!
I get up and take my usual pregnancy test. It's very faint. Hmm, that's weird. So it must be the test. I repeat it. Same thing. Okay, I'll pull out the expensive digital test. Yesterday it felt so great to watch the words, "PREGNANT!" pop up on the cassette. I figure it will make me feel better after these less than thrilling results.
The three minutes are an eternity. "NOT PREGNANT" WHAT???
Repeat it again. "NOT PREGNANT" How could it be???
So I'll wait 6 hours and repeat it again.
We are having a party. It's a great time. After everyone goes home, I do another test. Negative. What the hell is going on here? I finally break down and cry.
My husband sees me and asks why I'm testing. I scream and yell, telling him what's going on. I had wanted to shield him. I break down crying. He's obviously hurt, but lashes out at me with. "That's what you get for telling people early." I cry harder and fling myself dramatically on the bed. He comes over and holds me and apologizes. I cry, "You're mean." "I'm sorry."
I have got to know what's going on. I go in for more blood work. I smile and laugh, but I am nervous. Because of my timing, I'll have to wait until tomorrow.
I'm driving along and I realize that the pregnancy tests all sat in the hot car. Maybe that's why they were negative, maybe it isn't me! I'm happy again.
Later, I'm coming home and I decide to get another batch of the early tests because they are the most sensitive. But when I get home, the test is clearly negative, even after not going to the bathroom for several hours. It's really over. I want to cry but can't.
6:27 a.m. My eyes fly open. I feel a familiar rush between my legs. I don't need today's blood work results. I know what they will say. It's really over. A quick trip to the bathroom reveals bright red blood. I'm bleeding. It's what a sane woman would have called a late period. I should be 4 weeks and 6 days pregnant. I am not.
18 minutes before the alarm should have gone off, my baby has died. Oddly enough as I sit in the warm bath, thinking of how I will tell everyone, I realize that 18 is the number connected with the word life in Hebrew.
Significant or not I can't say.
I clear the four billion pregnancy tests that litter the bathroom sink into the garbage can. Thankfully today is garbage day. I sit downstairs.
I hear the alarm go off. My husband turns it off and gets up. I hear him go into the bathroom. By now, I'm emailing my friends and crying again. Just silent tears rolling down my face. "Are you okay?" He must have seen the empty sink. "Yes."
"You don't look okay."
"Do you want me take the day off?"
"No. I have to get up and get the kids off to various places."
"I could just spend the day with you."
"No, I'm fine." I'm no really, but I'll say I am. And the day starts...
This is often called a chemical pregnancy.