I thought I'd share how we got from there to here.
Caleb had just passed away. We went to my parents house in Florida for a week to try to find some sense of self away from the house he had lived in (and away from the house we had closed on a few days prior). After that week was over, I had to get back to work. My company told me that they would hold my job for me but not necessarily my caseload -- so there I was working again only a few weeks after losing the light of my life.
I didn't spend a lot of time working those first few weeks. I spent a lot of time talking to the other wonderful teachers at the school I was assigned. One teacher's aid in particular who had lost her 16 year old in a car wreck.
During my first week back, on a Thursday Feb. 13, I sitting there talking to her like I'd done for so many days when I commented, "I don't feel so good." We chatted for a few more minutes and I just kept feeling -- icky -- for lack of a better term. I guess I was getting a little greenish because she stopped mid-sentence and just started grinning at me. "What?" I asked. She says, "You're pregnant." "No." I argued. "I had my period the week Caleb died. Too early." "O-k" she says. She wasn't buying it. Neither was I. Come to think of it. My boobs HURT.
Yep. You know what I did as soon as school was over for the day. I bought a round of pee on a sticks and took one (hiding from Greg -- wouldn't that make a decent Valentine's Day present after the shit we've been through?). Nothing. Nada. Mind you, I was WAY early -- no period expected for at least a week. But I'm nothing if not persisent. So Friday morning rolls around -- morning pee. POAS gold. Nope. Still no lines. ARGH!
So I keep my mouth shut. Can't even remember what transpired that Valentine's Day. The day after we made our first trek to Winston-Salem to the mall that we all loved to go play in. We just needed to do. We made a bear that we call "Bucky" in Caleb's memory. He's in our family pictures. During the required trip through the tool department I got light headed and sick feeling. I told Greg that I needed to sit down. So he grabbed the stool that I always sat on when I was pregnant with Caleb and I sat while he looked around. I peeled out of my coat -- I was hot. Who cares that we are expecting an ice storm later that night? Greg abruptly puts down whatever man toy he was holding and says "You need to tell me something?" Smart boy. I said, "Well, its too early but I've taken 2 test and they don't show anything."
It was a quiet drive back to Statesville as we both mulled over the implications of this. As we pulled into town, Greg quietly asked, "Do you need to go to CVS?" At CVS I bought another 2 pack. I took one that night. Nothing. Sunday morning -- a very faint line. Yes? Sort of, but with that brand of tests I'd had it happen before only to have Aunt Flo show later in the week. Later that day we went to the Dollar Store. Their tests are supposed to be super sensitive according to the POAS gurus online. And they are cheap. So I bought 2. One yes. One no. WTH?
By this time yes all the symptoms are really raging! Sore boobs, feeling green, crampy -- all the joys of being pregnant. So I gave up on the POAS and just realized that I was in fact expecting my second child in October of the same year that my first child left my arms.
For good measure, about a week later, I took test number seven. It was positive before it even hit the bathroom counter.
6 years ago