Finding out

Aaah, blogging. It causes me to lose sleep. I ought to be napping right now, because one of the babes is teething and I am e.x.h.a.u.s.t.e.d. But blogging encourages me to write about things that should be written down. In this case, the subject is pregnancy tests. I had planned on telling these stories at the end of the month, when Claire turns one, but swistle inspired me to do it now. Here are my stories:

With Kate, it was 2004, and we were living in Korea. We had discussed children, specifically us having them, in the past, and I wasn't certain it was something I wanted to do. I enjoyed working and didn't always enjoy children, and was certain that it would force an ending to my selfish streak that I so enjoyed. But after having been married for 3 years, and quitting my last job to move overseas, we decided that we would start trying. Somehow, I thought that since we were actively wanting children, it should be easy. It was not. We tried for six months. No luck. I called my mother-in-law, certain that we would never have children and how could I live with that? She assured me that it would just take time. I think she also mentioned something about my hysteria, and how that might be a sign of things...but I am not sure about that one.

Not long after that conversation, Tim and I went on vacation to Vietnam. In hopes that warmer weather would bring out the double pink lines, I brought a test with me. Just in case. We lounged on the sand, lying under big frond umbrellas, in Phan Thiet. We wandered from beach to beach, enjoying the warm February weather, the warm water, and the tropical atmosphere and good food. We woke late each morning and ate lavish breakfasts at the resort we were staying at. We read books on the beach, took naps, and watched kite surfers negotiate the ocean waves.

One morning at breakfast, nothing looked appealing. This was odd, as breakfast is my favorite meal. They even had crepes, my Favorite favorite. I ate a couple of bites, and then pushed my plate away, opting to drink my tea instead. That afternoon, we made our way to the beach, and Tim got a Tiger beer from a beach vendor. I sipped it, and it was delicious. But, I thought, what if I'm pregnant? I better make sure it's okay to drink it. Back to the room I went. Minutes later, I found out that I would not be drinking beer for a long time. I walked back to the beach, trying to restrain my excitement, to tell Tim. I was nervous! We had been wanting a baby, but what would he say? He was excited, of course.

We spent the rest of our vacation making sure I had readily-available snacks (if I was hungry, I Absolutely.Could.Not.Wait.For.Food), having maternity dresses made for me in Hue, and trying to decide on names. When we got back to Korea, I was instantly glad we would be moving back to the US, I was so happy that it was winter and the smell wasn't so bad, I avoided the weekly markets that smelled of fish and...who knows what...I got an ultrasound on base and saw our teeny bean baby and its heartbeat (we wouldn't find out her gender until she was born), and friends in Korea even threw me a baby shower before we moved.

For Claire, she was definitely the second born. We wanted to have kids close together, mostly because 1.) my sister and are 4.5 years apart and were not close growing up, and 2.) I wanted the kids to have instant friends when we moved, which we do often in the military. I wasn't sure what to expect with the second pregnancy. It took us a long time to conceive Kate, and I didn't want the ups and downs of testing every month. So we just kind of played it by ear.

Then one day, Kate and I were shopping at the commissary. We walked down the condiment aisle, and I saw the ketchup and mustard. Mmmmm, hot dogs, I thought. Then: I'm pregnant. I so have to be pregnant. HOT DOGS? I added a pregnancy test to my basket. But it was too early.

We went on vacation to Oregon to visit Tim's family. We bought yummy beer that we have trouble finding here in Arizona. I drank several bottles over the course of a couple of days, knowing that I would likely not be able to drink any beer for many months. I know. I know! Horrible, right? The next morning, I took the test in my in-laws' guest bathroom. It was positive. I don't remember Tim's reaction. I am sure he was happy, but I don't remember his specific reaction. We didn't tell anyone for awhile, but then I couldn't keep it a secret any longer. I called my friend Steph to see how the base medical maze did pregnancy tests. She didn't ask any questions, just gave me answers to mine. Then I called my sister and told her. Later I told two of my sisters-in-law while we were at lunch.

Now, the baby from that hot dog pregnancy is about to turn one. I can hardly believe it. These past 3 years have been wonderful, emotional, heart-wrenching, crazy, and the most satisfying of any before.

Do you have a story you want to tell? Please share!