Postively Positive???

We will call him ‘J.’

After seeing those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, I was sure it had to be a false positive. I couldn’t be pregnant. Out of the two-and-a-half-years J and I had been dating, we had unprotected sex once. On our trip to Seattle the week before  J joked that I was pregnant, I replied, ‘It doesn’t happen like that- people spend years trying to get pregnant!’

To put my mind at ease I insisted we grab another test. We grabbed a cheap no-name test and it came back inconclusive. So, we went and bought another cheap one and again, Inconclusive. (First Life Lesson of being pregnant: Don’t cheap out on pregnancy tests; they’re not all the same.)

We could not afford anymore tests, so we went to the local clinic. J and I waited in our own states of anxiety, me,  twirling my hair and him rapidly shaking his leg impatiently.  “So, it’s positive,” the young doctor said, “You are pregnant.”

“YES!!” J said, clenching his fist in the air as if the Ducks scored a goal.

I didn’t bother asking about my options. J promised we’d “do it together… That he was different…. This was it…. What he’d always wanted.” I allowed myself to trust him again. To let everything go one more time. Things had to be different now; we’re having a baby after all.

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