Thursday, January 6, 2011

Finding out I was pregnant

I wasn't going to use this prompt, but since the whole purpose of this blog came about due to my son, it actually seems like an appropriate topic.  I found out I was pregnant in the month of June, kind of in stages.  My husband had been working for the government in Ottawa for a few months, and we were making weekend trips back and forth to see each other.  The plan was for me to eventually move there with him on a leave of absence from my teaching job to see if I liked it enough to stay. 

One weekend, we went for a walk along a nature trail just minutes from the apartment my husband was renting.  It was warm outside, not really hot, but for some reason I was sweating and tired and kept making him stop to rest.  We cut the walk short after about an hour of me complaining about how hot and tired I was.  When we finally got back to the apartment, I crashed on the bed for the rest of the afternoon.  Weird.  I thought for sure that I was coming down with something. 

The next week at work, I started realizing that something was definitely up.  I teach on the third floor of the school, and I could run up and down those stairs all day by the end of the school year.  Except that I started noticing that the tops of my feet were breaking out into rashes every time I did.  My colleague, who was very pregnant at the time, looked at them and said "Oh dear.  I think you're pregnant!"  It wasn't a total surprise, because my husband and I were letting nature take its course at that point, but I didn't want to confirm it without him there, so I waited until he came home for the weekend. 

After all that waiting, I took the test and it was positive.  Just as I was about to walk out of the bathroom to tell him, a neighbour knocked on our door and my husband invited him in to hang out.  Stashing the test in the bathroom medicine cabinet, I went into the living room to spend the next couple of hours biting my tongue and dying to let the cat out of the bag.  Finally our friend left, and I told my husband the good news!  His response?

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because these things aren't 100%.  I don't want to get excited and then find out that you're not really pregnant"

"........"

"Hello?"

"Uh.....do you want me to take another test?"

"Would you?"

My economist by trade, mathematical, statistics loving husband was calculating the probability of the test results being incorrect, while all I could think about was the fact that there was a new person growing inside of me.

I almost threw the first test at his head.

But I agreed to take the second if he agreed that he wouldn't question the results.

So I did.  And he believed it.  And then he actually got very excited and emotional, and it was difficult for him to leave to go back to Ottawa when the weekend was over.  We decided that since my family is in Toronto and his is mostly out ofthe country, that we would stay here to have the baby.  By the end of the 4th month of my pregnancy he had found a new job with the province, leased out the apartment and moved back to Toronto. 

Our son was born in 2009. 

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