It was supposed to be a yeast infection.
The guy at the drug store managed to scan the pregnancy test with a neutral expression but he was beaming at me as he took my cash. I had thought I didn’t really recognize him when I rushed in, but up close he was familiar. He’s met Mr K and thinks another adorable haafu is in the works, I thought. Even if I had the language skills to easily convey it, I don’t know that I would have told him that I thought it was a yeast infection, all that nausea, and a late or missing period because that’s what my body has always been inclined to do. I’m just doing the responsible thing and confirming I’m not pregnant before I get to work on things with some over-the-counter pessaries.
For all that I made sure I bought it, I didn’t really want to take the test. I put off even opening the box until a lunch break I was actually home alone for.
The first shock was simply that the test was pink. The stick was pink and so were the lines I was to look for. It was very Japanese, really, but at least there weren’t any animated characters involved. Then I scanned the instructions and discovered a detailed, well-written English translation on the back. I didn’t even need to make sure I had deciphered the Japanese carefully and something about that left me feeling like I was out of excuses not to take the test.
And then I undertook the test, put its cover back on and stood back. I wasn’t even sure it had worked. I was doing everything wrong – testing in the middle of the day, not managing to pee on it for five whole seconds, and following a large drink of Sprite that was sure to dilute it…
But one pink (pink) line told me at once that the test had worked no matter how half-arsed I’d been. I checked the instructions again – I should wait three to five minutes for a second line to appear, they advised.
I didn’t even need one.
It was almost laughable, how rapidly that second line appeared and how boldly. I’d been so sure I wouldn’t be pregnant. I kept checking to make sure I hadn’t misunderstood, that this wasn’t actually a negative result. That test, though, was even more determined that I was.
I’m pregnant again.
It was barely supposed to be possible naturally, what with R’s slow-moving, misguided sperm and my malfunctioning ovaries. That’s not even factoring in that we don’t often get at it lately, what with just being tired, and the weird cycle I was already having, but here we are. The timing is shocking but we got a bloody PCOS miracle baby due in late February on, of all the dates on the calendar, my next birthday.