I waited until Dave woke up. As soon as he came downstairs I dragged him into the second bedroom to look at the test. He was reluctant to say he saw anything. I agreed that it was really faint.
I went to use the bathroom and on impulse grabbed a shot glass and peed in it. I decided I’d sacrifice my one digital test, left over from December. I told myself that if I didn’t get a positive, I’d walk to Walgreens in penance and buy myself a replacement test.
Well. It came out positive, as you can see above.
I didn’t hop in the shower like I planned to. I ran into the second bedroom, showed Carter the test, and demanded a high-five.
It was very early—only nine days after ovulation, and three days before the earliest day that was “safe” to test. Yet here we are.
I haven’t really processed this change in state yet. Just like the last time, this was our first month off birth control–and bam! I was happy, Carter was blasé, and nothing really has changed. I suppose he’s more leery this time around because of the miscarriage, but consciously have decided to proceed with the same delight and joy as the last time. If this one goes, I’ll be sad, but I don’t want to go through this period of time deadened by caution.
Besides, I have a good feeling about this one. The last time, nothing really felt right. This time, everything feels normal. I did the math, counting backwards; this little guy or girl was conceived on my birthday.