I was supposed to get my period mid-week (last week).
It never showed.
I had never been this “late” before.
Maybe it was the time difference/jet lag from our trip …? Maybe it was stress …?
Maybe I was … pregnant?
It was a long shot, since we’d been careful, but I had no idea.
So on Friday after work, I went out and bought my very first test. Yiiiiiiiiiiiii, it was exciting!
I guzzled water the whole way home, read all of the instructions, and managed to pee properly on the stick. I got First Response, because I love the commerical — and it was so cool and digital, just as promised. It even flashed a little clock to let me know it had “worked” and it was now processing.
Three minutes later …
I know it’s blurry, but that is a “NO” and a minus sign. Did I get your hopes up? I must admit, I had some mixed emotions.
I was relieved because …
A) It means I definitely won’t be throwing up at Best Friend’s wedding (which is now two weeks and four days away)
B) It means I will absolutely still fit into my matron of honour dress C) It means that I am not one of those crazy-fertile people who get pregnant just by looking at someone (because we did not “try” this month, so it would have been a bit alarming)
… and I was a bit disappointed because … A) It’s the kind of test I always hoped would be positive B) I do want a baby. So much. C) It means we will not have a “human souvenir” from our great trip to the States — wouldn’t that have been cute?
My period arrived yesterday. I still have no freaking clue why it was soooo late, but whatever. It’s here. The hilarious part is that Best Friend’s wedding really is shaping up to be C-Day, because O-time is usually two weeks after you get your period.
I know it’s a long shot, but if it does happen in July — the first time we try — then that means my doctor will start counting the pregnancy from FDLP (first day of last period). Which is yesterday!
So technically, if I get pregnant in two weeks, I will have already been pregnant for two weeks. It means I would be one day pregnant now, in a strictly numbers-sense.
I’m Heather Laura Clarke. I’m a writer living in beautiful Nova Scotia, I have a 12-year-old son and a 10-year-old daughter, I married my high school sweetheart, and this is the story of my handmade life.
I have depression and anxiety, and I fight like hell every day to keep them from taking over my life. Creating things helps.
Whether I’m writing novels, decorating a room, busting out my power tools to build furniture, getting muddy in the pottery studio, sewing clothes, or cross-stitching a swear word, I’m all about using my creativity to craft a life I love.
I’ve been writing this blog since 2009, so if you dig deep into the archives, you’ll meet a bright-eyed 25-year-old newlywed who was basically obsessed with having kids, buying a cozy house, and supporting herself full-time with her writing. (Spoiler alert: she got exactly what she wanted.)