1 Year Ago Today

I snuck downstairs at 4:04am. I just couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know. I was already 17 DPO, I was already feeling a little off, I was already thinking this time might be different. But I didn’t get my hopes up. I didn’t believe that I could ever see 2 lines on an HPT. I was convinced that HPT’s were a cruel joke, designed to disappoint me. I was convinced it was not possible for 2 lines to appear. Ever.

I had sat there so many times. Peeing, looking, waiting. My heart would race, I’d get anxious, I’d close my eyes, leave the room. I’d do ANYTHING to avoid looking at the stick for 3 excruciating minutes. And I was used to the feeling of my heart hitting my stomach, of having to shake it off before I left the bathroom and not show my disappointment to the hubs. I was used to pretending I was ok to just keep waiting to see what happened because we hadn’t really been trying THAT hard. I was used to the disappointment. I knew the routine. I knew how to smile and say “well at least I can keep eating sushi and drinking beer for another month” and being optimistic that it would happen when the time was right. I was used to silently telling myself that maybe, babies just weren’t for us.

This is why I snuck down. I learned it was easier to take the tests on my own, discard them discreetly and pretend I’d never been hopeful. I’d learned that being 17 or 23 DPO didn’t mean anything for me, other than that I had a screwy chart that month. I learned how to swallow the cry bubble before looking anyone in the face, so I could keep my recent failure to myself. I learned to keep the yearning for a child I never even knew I would want to myself. I learned to lie to everyone, especially me.

Only this time? This time was different. This time, I watched the stick as I peed, and as the window got wet, the lines turned pink, 1 and then the other. Could this BE? Was I REALLY pregnant? Was there actually a baby inside me? Were you there? I stared, I looked, I lost my breath. I lost my breath for a good reason, for a happy reason, for a shocked reason. I lost my breath and this time? It didn’t hurt. I felt as though I could live a thousand lives without ever breathing again.

There were 2 lines. Your life had begun already. We had been a family for 4 weeks and 2 days and I hadn’t even known it. I instantly felt you. I was in love before I even put the stick down and pulled up my pants. My heart opened wider and bigger than it ever had, and felt the warmth only a baby in your stomach can bring. I began to imagine all the things we would do together, how you would look, how our life would change. I envisioned holidays together, I envisioned meeting you for the first time, I envisioned myself as a mother.

I must have stood, staring at that stick in disbelief for 30 minutes or more (in fact I know I did, as it was 4:46am when I got back into bed). I stood, feeling powerful, feeling more love than I knew I had, feeling free from all my lies. I stood, for the first time as a woman capable and proud to be growing life.

Shaking, I made my way back upstairs. Your dad was asleep. He had no idea that he would forever be known, from that moment forward, as your dad.

I’d imagined this scenario 1000 times before. How I would tell your dad? What awesome way could I do it? I’ve always prided myself on being creative, on knowing how to properly celebrate things, on knowing how to surprise people. I’ve planned many parties, I’ve helped plan engagements and other huge milestones for people. I’ve always been full of ideas. So I couldn’t fall short on my own miracle. You deserved the most amazing form of celebration possible. You were already amazing.

When I thought I was pregnant around his birthday, I bought him a “Happy Birthday Daddy” card. But I wasn’t. When I thought I was pregnant on Father’s Day, you can imagine the plans I had. But this time? There were no other events I could tie it to and I needed to be creative.

I had thought of a few plans leading up to this day 1 year ago today. I was going to go buy little cute baby Converse chucks, and leave them for him in the morning. Or maybe buy a kids video game (because as you will learn, daddy makes video games so they are kind of a big deal) and ask him to play it with me. I would then tell him he’ll have to teach you how to play in a few years. Or I was going to rent a bunch of baby related movies and see if he got the hint. I had a lot of grand plans. Maybe we’d go to dinner, and I wouldn’t order a drink, and when he asked why I’d slyly say “well I don’t think alcohol is good for our baby”. I wasn’t going to tell him right away. No, I was going to tell him the right way.

Right up until I peed on that stick.

And then? And then I could not contain myself for even 4 minutes.

I crept back upstairs, my heart racing, my mind filled with 1000 different things. I climbed back into bed. It was hot. The sun was on the rise. Your dad rolled over. I took this as a sign that he was in fact wide awake and ready to hear such news. I even asked “are you awake?”

“Um, no” he grumbled and rolled over. A morning person he is not. Also, we had been in a ‘discussion’ before bed, and daddy thought this was one of those times where I had been brooding all night long and could no longer take it and needed to talk about all our life problems NOW, at 4:46am.

“Yes you are”

“No, I’m really not”

“But you’re talking to me”

“I’m sleep talking”

“Well me? I’m pregnant” (because I am SMOOTH and appropriate like that)

“What? Seriously? How the fuck did THAT happen?” because HE is smooth and appropriate like that, and also apparently lacks knowledge of basic biology)

“Yes, I just peed on the stick – SEE” (which clearly he can’t because it’s darkish and he isn’t wearing glasses.)

“Whoa”

“Yup”

“So, wow. I guess our parts work then hey?” (isn’t he sweet?)

“Yes. Now we need to…..”

“Uh, ok, do we need to right now? Can we go back to sleep and talk about this in a few hours” (can you FEEL the excitement LOL?).

It’s not that he wasn’t excited. It’s that he was shocked, and overwhelmed. It’s also that it was 4:46am in again, he’s not so much the morning person. Not even when I rock his entire world.

So then we snuggled up. He slept, my mind raced. I was pregnant. You were in there. Thriving, living, being loved.

A year ago today, I became your mother.