Well. After such a depressing post, you'd expect a little radio silence, yeah? The day after was my blood test at the clinic. I'd spent the day before yelling at myself and stomping on any spark of hope that the pee sticks were wrong. I spent the day I decided to stop peeing on sticks saying goodbye to my Maybies and yelling internally and stomping on any spark of hope. Then I went the next morning for my bloodwork, and again said goodbye to my Maybies as I waited for the walk light as I crossed from the parking lot to the clinic building. Slapping myself internally and putting the smackdown on any little niggle of hope. Every time I felt my breasts tingling it was like a cruel slap in the face. Which was all the time.
After the blood test, they said it would be hours before they got the results, and then would get around to calling me, basically, when they got around to it. "Then they do their rounds, so whenever they get to it..." Thanks. It's not like this is important to me, or anything. So I met my husband and daughter at her kiddie gym class, and we went out for brunch after. Some point before our food arrived (maybe even before we'd ordered. I can't really remember...) I get a call from the clinic. You know in those moves, where they do some camera zoomy trick where suddenly everything in the world is focused on one tiny little thing? That's how I felt.
It was my nurse, which was weird, since I thought she only worked weekdays. And she sounded cheerful. Could this mean...? "Congratulations!" Whaaaaaaaat? Seriously? "You're pregnant! Your number was at 147, and we're looking for anything over a 50." Oh. My. God. I was crying so hard, and I thanked her and hung up and couldn't even function. I knew that my husband was sitting there, and I knew what he must be thinking, but I couldn't even form a thought coherent enough to consider how to let him know the good news.
Until my daughter's voice asked, "Mommy. Are you sad?" I look over and her mouth is downturned in her little sad moue, and her lip is starting to quiver and her eyes are filling with tears. So I say "Oh, no, baby. I am so HAPPY! I am so happy there was just no room for my crying, so it had to all come out." My husband isn't an idiot, so he understood, and was also pleasantly shocked. My daughter was not convinced. So everything else took a back seat to calming her down. I couldn't really blame her, especially after she found me crying periodically the day before. Now whenever I laugh really hard she asks me why I'm crying. Poor thing.
It's weird. I'm totally thrilled and happy, but I'm also still all withdrawn. I don't want to talk about it. I don't mind people knowing. I just don't want the focus to be on me right now. I don't want to talk about it. I made him call his mom (I mean, she's his mom, after all.) If I could have gotten away with having him tell my sister, I totally would have. Luckily my sister was at my mom's house so my mom heard her side of the conversation, so that saved me having to make another call. And his mom told his sister, who had no cell service until she got back from her camping trip on Monday. I didn't call my stepmother-in-law until many days later. Mostly because I only thought about it while driving or too late at night, and I didn't want to text her.