Let me set the scene:
It's the week between Christmas and New Year's, 2010 and I'm fluttering about the house, with a positive pregnancy test in my back pocket. I can't sit still, because if I do, I'm certain I'll do one of a number of things:
2) Bubble over in slightly psychotic giggles - which doing so by myself would be even weirder, no?
3) Cry? Which would be the worst of the three - I think I've cried more in the past month than I have in my entire life
I called my earthy (currently pregnant herself) sister-in-law, who seems to know a lot about everything (bless her heart, she's my favorite) and blurted the news, "I just got a positive, it's not just leftovers, is it?" (imagine that in all one breath - with an I'mAboutToLoseMyMind undertone)
E calmly responds, "I'm sure that it's not just leftovers. Let me call a friend and find out for sure."
So I've got my phone as loud as it'll go (like I'm so busy doing 2304716 other things and may not hear it), waiting for E to call me back, when in walks my sweet, darling of a husband, D. He was home early from work - which never happened. It was like he knew I had something I needed (but didn't want) to tell him. I hadn't yet heard back from E, so I had no idea weather to show him the test - or just throw it away.
Of course I shove the test under his nose like he's a near-sighted 90 year old, with the same rushed phrase I'd shared with E, "I took this just now but who knows if it's real or if it's leftovers." I took a breath and blew it out, "I should probably just throw it out."
D, being ever so practical, says not to throw it out - just put it away, and (duh) call the doctor. (How had this not yet occurred to me?)
So I did. And they rushed me in like I was actually pregnant. Took my blood (I was a pro by now, it seems like I'd been doing this twice a week for ever), and told me to come back in two days - they'd do it again. (to make sure the numbers are going up -- not down)
So I did. They said they'd call right away. Right away ended up being a few hours later. My cell rings, and it's the nurse I like (not the hoe-bag who wouldn't man-up and call me with the bad news I knew she had), and she's so excited - "Your numbers have doubled!" My brain knows what that means, but my heart knows it's no guarantee. I felt so proud, and have never been more scared in my entire life.
And that, my friends, is the first step in the long journey that landed me from my City Dreams to Soybeans.