Tuesday, February 28, 2017

How I Told My Husband I Was Pregnant

A few months ago I shared my struggles to get pregnant in a two part post, which you can read here and here. Today, about one year from when Erik and I found out I was pregnant, I am sharing how I gave him the good news. At the risk of sounding incredibly cliche, I've lived my life so differently from that day forward. Here is how it all started...

I woke up early that Saturday morning; it was still dark out. Erik and I had gotten tattoos the night before-a way for me to stick it to the (fertility) man. I can't have babies so I might as well do whatever I want. Until the disappointment I'd experienced that month in finding out I wasn't pregnant (I'd been so sure), I 'd grown accustomed to updating my fertility tracker every morning while I lay in bed. I was fighting the urge to do so that morning. To access the app, as trivial as that sounds, would be admitting I still wanted a baby-no thanks. I was far too stubborn and hurt to put myself through another year of fertility tracking and all of  the neurosis which that entails. Finally, I put my phone down and got up to drink my weight in coffee-aka the life force. In the back of my mind though, I thought, caffeine is damaging to babies...maybe I should take a pregnancy test just to be safe. If you've ever gone through the trials of trying to get pregnant, you're familiar with the inner debate about whether or not you should take a test. You want to because you're excited; on the other hand, you don't want to be disappointed...again. Screw it, I thought. Let's get this over with. I

If you've read my two posts about my struggle to get pregnant, you already know that I wandered into the bathroom that morning and took the test. Unlike the countless other tests I took, however, I didn't stare at it for two or three minutes hoping at the last second the single line would double. This time, before I had time to really wake up, I was staring down at two blue lines.

As you know, I'm a planner. If you look at my Pinterest, you would find a board specifically for pregnancy reveal ideas. During football season I would present Erik with a baby-size Lions jersey. On his birthday, I would let him unwrap a onesie. At Christmas I would hang an extra stocking. When it happened, I would be equipped with an arsenal of cute, clever ideas. If only I could get pregnant!

It was early March-too late for his birthday, too early for anything St. Paddy's themed.

It didn't matter. In that moment, I was paralyzed. I could do nothing but stare down at that cheap little dollar store test in disbelief. So, I did what I always did in panicky situations-I went to my husband. He'd know what to do.

The bedroom was still dark when I went back in. I sat at the foot of the bed. Erik had (and still has) a way of playing dead in the mornings to avoid things like getting me coffee or making me breakfast or taking a random trip to Home Depot for whatever project I've fancied up. Boy has learned. Anyways, I sat at the foot of the bed and just stared at him. He didn't budge. Finally, I kind of nudged him back and forth. His eyes peeked open just a bit and he tried to pull me back into bed-trying to avoid whatever crazy idea I had that morning. I sat erect-not moving, not speaking. Finally he realized something wasn't right.

What's wrong?

I couldn't answer. He probably thought the worst-something terrible has happened. But, I just couldn't form the words.

Aud, what's wrong? Talk to me.

I sounded like a little mouse when I finally muttered, I think I'm pregnant. 

He stood up, although not fully awake, and I led him to the test. When he finally made sense of what he was looking at (he consulted the instructions just to be sure) he hugged me, tears in his eyes. It would be the second time I saw my husband cry (once when we married and again when Juniper was born). That is a moment I will remember until the day I die. But, I don't think I'll ever forget what happened next...

Suddenly, he let go of me and stumbled into the living room, pulled on his boots and coat, and started heading out the door. Two minutes of knowing he was going to be a dad and he was already trying to bolt. Awww hell no. 

Erik, what are you doing?!

I'm going to get you more tests. Not some dollar store test.

I started laughing. My husband is a doer. If I mention wanting something in passing, he is on Amazon ordering before I even finish the sentence. This moment was no different. I tell him we are bringing a human being into this world and he takes action-we must confirm this is real.

I explained to him that a false negative is likely; a false positive-not so much. He agreed to come back inside, but only until the sun was up. You better believe, when CVS opened, that boy was in the family planning aisle sending me photos of pregnancy tests asking, which one? It took several tests to prove to him that I was actually pregnant. He even had me take one the next day to ensure I was "still pregnant."

We spent the entire weekend hovering between incredible excitement and a deep fear-the kind you don't want to acknowledge. I can tell you that more than a few times we asked each other, is it too early to be excited? That weekend we were completely and entirely consumed by Juniper before she was even a Juniper. Flash forward one year later and not much has changed. Our lives are all about that girl-her early morning smiles, her midnight wails (groan), how brilliant we think she is when her two slimy little fingers reach up for her rattle. If ever she gets a brother or sister, maybe I'll put my big reveal plans into action...maybe not.


1 comment:

  1. Haha! So cute! Once that excitement/fear/adrenaline actually hits our crafty minds go haywire! ;)

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