I can't stop watching pregnancy announcements on YouTube.
My favorites are the videos where families are led to believe that they are posing for a picture but the video feature of the camera is on. The person behind the camera says, "Okay, one-two-three...everyone say...Erica is pregnant!" Then we all see the frozen smiles turn into shock, turn into joy, and then the group falls apart into hugging and congratulations.
I am not pregnant now. Nor will I be again. But they make me think of finding out about my babies.
With Sam: it was Sunday, June 12, 2005. I was watching Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and playing solitaire. Eric was sleeping, as he worked overnights, and was two days away from taking his RN licensure testing. I wasn't late but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was pregnant. I drove to Walgreens, convincing myself I was being ridiculous and wasting money. I promised myself that IF I was pregnant I wouldn't tell Eric - he had enough pressure as it was trying to pass his RN exam.
I bought and took the test. One line meant no baby. Two lines meant a baby. I watched two lines develop. I felt like I was going to faint and focused my eyes on the blank white wall in the bathroom to make sure I wasn't seeing things. I looked back to the test and saw two bold lines.
I ran into our room where Eric was sleeping. I bounced on the bed and called his name until he said, "Is there something you want to tell me?"
I felt like I was out of my body as I said, "I felt like I should take a pregnancy test. So I did. It was positive."
Eric said, "So you're going to be a momma?" and fell back asleep.
Sorry, Sam. That's the truth.
I called my sister. She couldn't have been happier. I called my mom. She was quite blase. I called my dad. He was ecstatic. I went back downstairs and wondered how in the world I would just finish watching my movie and playing cards now that my entire life had changed. (My mom called me six more times that day and her hysteria more than made up for her initial reaction.)
____________
With Matilda: it was late April 2008. Eric and I went through an awful time when Sam was two. Eric was not living with me when I had a sudden bout of nauseousness. I ignored it until I felt again the next day. I thought to myself, "How weird. I haven't felt nauseous since..."
I went numb. I drove to Walgreens. I bought the test. I saw the two lines. I stared at the wall in my living room for two hours and wondered what God was trying to do. Two days later I told Eric I was pregnant. We stared at each other in helplessness. He left.
Sorry, Til. That's the truth.
A week later I told my sister. She couldn't have been happier. "This baby is going to save us all," she said.
I told my mom. She was thrilled.
I told my dad. He was ecstatic.
Then the fight to take care of our babies kicked in. I told Eric I would be moving closer to my sister. He said he'd go wherever his babies went. We found a house we both loved. We packed, cried, panicked, loved, and fought our way through that summer. We ended up in our house in September. In December Matilda was born. We have been fighting our way through ever since.
We didn't have the big announcements. We didn't have the family gatherings. But my babies - my Samuel and Matilda - were wanted, were loved, and have a purpose.