btf: "don't stop believing!"

** part of a series "Baby Talk Fridays," to read more about this series see this post. **

May 26, 2009

There is a pregnancy test that reads "YES+" sitting on my kitchen windowsill far out of the reach of the toddler, but within frequent glancing distance for Steve and I to keep checking that we aren't mistaken. We attended Marc and Kelly's wedding over the weekend and on Sunday, back at the beach Steve looked at me before bed in my clingy cotton long sleeve t and said "are you sure you are not pregnant?" This sent me into a tailspin.

All week I had been noticing that I was gaining a bit of a spare tire. I made mental notes to lay off the mint milanos and spend more time with Jillian Michaels. I looked at my side profile in the bathroom mirror while taking out my contacts and thought "no way, but hmm, sort of odd that those milanos seem only to be hanging out in my mid section, completely ignoring my hips."

I thought about the many trips to the restroom the night of the wedding that I had blamed on my 12:30 snack attack with a full bottle of water and several glasses of coke and OK, a corona or two at the reception. I recalled the alarm I had felt looking down at my dress while primping that I was seriously packing it on and RIGHT before bathing suit season! I thought about this the entire ride home to CT and when Steve ran out to the grocery store to pick up a forgotten item for our Memorial Day BBQ, I made a beeline for the scale.

I had LOST 2 pounds since my last weigh in. Though I technically was not supposed to take a test before Wednesday, I ripped into the last one assuring myself that I could get another before then and this would allow me to push the thought that I was already pregnant out of my mind completely and focus on severe caloric reduction. Alone, with the test blinking back its positive message, I fell onto my knees at Caroline's feet and covered her confused cheeks with salty sweet tears before spending nearly 20 minutes ALONE pacing the house waiting for Steve to return with the forgotten portobella and cheese bistro burger. Perhaps in retrospect taking the test at that moment was less than my most shining moment. Caroline heralded the news to Steve by handing him the test (there was not time enough to practice new phrases) and his face was a beautiful mix of surprise and bliss.

Despite the many months that have gone by and all the PINING for this miracle, we are still shocked. Shocked and elated. Shocked and itchy to move back to Boston. Shocked and giddy. Shocked and thankful.

When my grandmother passed away, I had hoped that her spirit and this baby's spirit would pass out there in the unknown. I had prayed that she would help guide this little creature to us and in doing so, get to meet him or her. This month with her passing, I have been more positive than ever that this miracle would happen for us and she did not disappoint. The amazing combination of positively, help from beyond, some herbal tea, and a little luck may just have pushed the scale to the other side for us. If this really is real my grandmother already has the naming rights, which I will execute on her behalf. She would be tickled to know that my very opinionated husband readily agreed.

I go this afternoon for confirmatory bloodwork (Progesterone, HcG) that they will use to validate the positive test results and to determine how far along we are. At this point I suspect that this all happened much earlier than we thought possible and I guesstimate that we might be as much as 6 weeks along. The little poochy bloat I am sporting tells me so. How I instinctively knew to take it easy at the 80's rock wedding is beyond me. If there was ever an opportunity to pour drink after drink down my gullet it was Saturday and yet, I was relatively tame, choosing soda over cocktail often, but not always. At a wedding where the most popular cocktail was jack and soda. In the middle of a crowd rocking air guitar and splits. A mother knows.


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