lines in a boxPosted: May 21, 2012
it was 4am on a saturday and i was wide awake and panicking. my period was five days late.
a few months ago, after much discussion and breathing into paper bags, alvin and i made the decision to officially start trying to have a baby. a part of me expected to get pregnant the moment this decision was reached; the not-so-bright part of me, as it turned out.
month after month, my period came like clockwork, oblivious to my growing confusion. people got pregnant so much so often that i seriously didn’t think it was something i should worry about. if i had known how hard it would be for me to get knocked up, i would’ve spent all that condom money on something else!
but this month was different. i waited and no blood came. i waited some more. still nothing. excited and impatient, i went and got myself a home pregnancy test and an ultimatum: if my period still hasn’t come by the time i woke up saturday, i was going to pee on that stick and it was going to turn out positive and i was going to be the prettiest, most glowing pregnant woman on earth.
now it was 4am and i was shaking from the very vivid dream i had woken up from. in my dream, i *had* taken the pregnancy test and it *had* turned out positive. it felt so real, as real as the realization i had.
i didn’t want to be pregnant.
no, that wasn’t entirely true, a part of me does. while i firmly recognize the hard work and commitment involved in actually taking care of and raising a whole new human, a small part of me has been romanticizing the whole idea of motherhood with sweet, chubby babies who smell good and never make too much noise and demand too much of my time, and that small part just got a really hard slap from my subconscious.
somehow, i managed to get in a few more hours of sleep before finally getting up and taking the test. it was negative.