Pregnancy #2: What I'll Remember

I found myself driving to Walmart at 6:15 on a Friday morning to buy pregnancy tests. A cheapie at 4 a.m. had shown a faint line, much to my surprise. After a year and a half since my last pregnancy, I hadn't counted on it happening again. Going back to sleep was out of the question. I finally figured out that our Walmart was open 24 hours and was off and running.

Two pink lines showed up immediately. My husband, hater of mornings, pulled off his eye mask and snapped to attention as soon as the words left my mouth. I spent the day on top of the world. Of course there was reason to keep my joy in check, just in case, but I'd worry about that later. I wondered if my coworkers could somehow tell that I was pregnant from the aura of fertility I was radiating.

We had a gift certificate to The Cheesecake Factory and decided to go that night to celebrate. I kept asking myself if the salmon I got was making me feel sick--maybe? We were both so ecstatic that my choking on a fish bone, gagging repeatedly, and nearly throwing up on my plate didn't dampen our moods. Afterward, we wandered into Crate & Barrel and cuddled like newlyweds on their couches. We started calling each other "Babymomma" and "Babydaddy."

I started writing this post intending to talk about the entire 3 weeks of the pregnancy after I found out. The beach trip when I was able to look at toddlers playing in the sand without getting a lump in my throat. The beginnings of horrible nausea that forced me to eat Saltines in the middle of the night. Buying new shirts to attempt to hide my humongous boobs. The anxiety of that first week of knowing about the new pregnancy combined with work stress.

But right now, the memories that stand out most for me, more so than even the nightmarish first ultrasound, are the ones of that first day. The euphoria of getting there again, of starting to grow a new life inside me, was part of it. A bigger part, though, was sharing the joy with my husband and connecting through our excitement. Feeling his giddiness combine with mine and draw us closer. Maybe I'm subconsciously choosing to remember the good and forget the bad, but I'll take that for now.