Many people have said it’s important to write down important pregnancy moments in some kind of journal because they are often forgotten after the baby comes and things get crazy. And since I waited until my third trimester to start blogging (and even now, content is scant at best), I figured I better rewind things and reflect on the kickoff of this pregnancy. So let’s go back, back to the beginning:
Before we got married last February, my husband and I agreed that a baby was in our future. We hadn’t landed on timing before the wedding day, but as we continued the discussion post-nuptials, we realized there was a small window of time in which we could try for a baby that would allow me to stay home for more than three months before residency begins in July. Other alternatives included having a baby during residency, which would include 4-5 weeks of maternity leave amidst a crazy work schedule, or wait until after residency when everyone is three years older and siblings would be more spread out in age. After briefly discussing, we decided there was no time like the present.
Initially I was supposed to be done with medical school at the end of March, but because less than half of women get pregnant on their first try, we decided to start the process a month early. I was so excited to take my first pregnancy test that I decided neither to wait for a few days after my missed period nor to take test in the morning, when the pregnancy hormone is most concentrated in urine. So on the evening when my period should’ve started and my potential beta-hcg was at its lowest point, I marched myself into the master bathroom with a cheap CVS pregnancy test and peed on the stick. Three minutes later, there was a solid, dark pink line (the control) and then maybe, if I squinted really hard, another hint of a blush-colored line (the positive marker).
But what, exactly, did that faint line mean? Was it truly a positive marker or merely a figment of my imagination? Was pregnancy hormone painting it pink or was it merely the result of wetting the stick?
After about 30 seconds of consideration, I marched myself back to bed, pee stick in hand, and nuzzled up to my husband. I was clutching the pregnancy test with a tight grip, but casually hanging it off the side of the bed, out of view.
“I need your opinion about something.”
“How many pink lines do you see?”
I flashed the stick in front of his face and likely stopped his heart.
“Are you sure? Are we making this up?”
And with that short exchange, he hugged me tightly and we soaked in that life-changing moment.
The next day I woke up early and drove to CVS with a full bladder to invest in a more clearly delineated digital pregnancy test. And then I spent another $30 or so on five or six backup tests, all of which came back positive over the next 48 hours. I sent photos of them to my husband, and we shared our excitement via text exchange:
We agreed to keep the news from our loved ones, but made an exception that allowed us each to tell one friend. I chose a friend in pharmacy school who helped me navigate the pregnancy test aisle and evaluate my list of current medications, and my husband chose basically everyone at his office. (Who can blame him for being too excited to keep a secret? It’s kind of adorable once you get past the breech of contract angle.)
Reflecting on our pregnancy story I realize it may not be the most romantic--there are one-upping women out there making custom baby baked goods and putting their pee sticks in gift boxes--but it was perfect for us, and from the moment we saw 1.5 pink lines, we never looked back.
