Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Always An Anomaly
Sorry to you investors that I did not warn you there would be a sudden spike in First Response Pregnancy Tests stock over the last few days. You really missed out on major profits. This is especially heartbreaking since those profits could have been put to good use as college tuition for the million children we will now be mom and dad to very soon.
I was late.
For you naive, don’t have a wife with wife parts, readers…I don’t mean, I over-slept, didn’t have time to brush my teeth, popped in gum and ran out the door kind of late.
And I’m never late.
This kind of late.
The other kind of late…right…you win.
So, Sunday morning I am literally nauseous. I didn’t know if I was nauseous because I was pregnant, or because I thought I was pregnant…both induce nausea in me.
I thought the only logical thing to do would be to load up all four kids, early before heading to church to sing, go into Walgreens and buy a box of tests. If you have four kids, or even a good imagination, you will know I was in a state of panic to accomplish this task of securing some sanity that comes in a little box full of sticks you pee on.
I ran home. Did my thing. The tests were negative.
I ate pop-tarts.
Tuesday, still no punctuation in my pants.
Kirby came over with tests. I took one. Faint line. So faint, I could have been imagining it. Kirby was imagining it a little stronger than I was.
I leave the house, go to a very stressful meeting about Danny. I feel like I’m going to throw up right in the middle of the meeting…nice. Again…maybe it’s just that I’m nervous. Nervousness has never induced vomiting in me that I know of…but there’s always a first for everything…I’m so good at calming myself with made-up wisdom.
I come home and decide to take the remaining test, just to make my nausea go away.
Two lines. Second one faint…but definitely NOT imaginary. Even Anson thought we were dumb for asking him, “How many lines do you see on this test.” He said, “Two” and looked at us like we were nuts for questioning his counting abilities. He also thought all the pregnancy tests all over the house were things that I had bought “to make my hair the color of Kirby’s hair.” Funny.
Right now, I’m sure some of you are either getting extremely excited, or you are thinking we really need to figure out how the birds and the bees work so Aaron and I don’t single-handedly cause over-population on this great planet, Earth.
That’s how I felt.
Enter, Amazing Doctor Bacak.
I called him in Arkansas.
He’s ruing the day he gave this Hendrick his cell phone number.
Knowing my great fear of all things pregnancy, he did what only the Amazing Doctor Bacak is powerful enough to do. He put on his tall black hat and cape…waved his magic wand…and sha-zam…I had an order from a real life doctor to go get blood work done at the lab.
This would surely tell me if we needed to start adding on to our house…adding on a bathroom with my own personal toilet to yak in for 4 months. Thrilling.
The blood work was NEGATIVE.
This would have been great and fine with me except for the fact that I was holding, in my hand a positive pregnancy test.
Last night, a bunch of “the girls” came to hang out.
We did what only a bunch of girls would do if a friend thinks she may be pregnant. We did more tests.
This morning….another test…two lines.
This would only happen to me, by the way. Why can’t anything in my life be by the book. Why? I can’t even make my blood and pee be normal. Is there any hope for all these kids running around here? It’s worrisome.
Either that old saying, “You can’t be sort-of pregnant” is sort of WRONG…or my blood needs to be put in remedial classes.
Right now, I don’t know if I should be excited, concerned, picking out names or writing up my will.
So…all that to say…
I might be having another Hendrick. Maybe. Perhaps. Possibly.
I never thought I would birth any more babies. I was planning on adopting any new additions.
Maybe God is just trying to ease me into the idea of having another life growing inside of me…or maybe I’m growing a sea turtle…at this point, I’m not sure of anything.
I’m giving Aaron a vasectomy when he gets home. I’ve been reading how-to’s on the internet. Who knew all the tools I will need are in Aaron’s workshop.
I'll keep you posted. Stay tuned to find out if a chipmunk or a child is growing inside of me, and to see how Aaron's surgery turns out.