Right before I turned 19 I found out I was pregnant with my daughter. It was pretty much the same way most women find out these days. I was late. I denied it to myself for a few weeks. I continued to be late. I bawled like a baby. I bought a pregnancy test.
I was living in Omaha at the time with my kids dad living the "city life". We had
what we thought was a kick ass apartment in a complex that had an indoor pool, gym, and sauna. So what if our furniture was circa 1975? We were both making good (enough) money. We owned a gaming system, people. There is just no way to explain how cool we were. WE.WERE.AWESOME.
Where was I? Oh, right... I got knocked up. You know those bullshit lies you are told to never believe? "We don't need to use a condom. I smoke a lot of marijuana so I have a low sperm count. You can't get pregnant." Apparently there wasn't any amount of awesomeness that made up for my naivete.
So I drove home with the test in a bag, went straight to the bathroom and closed the door. I read the pamphlet and counted back the days. First morning urine? WHAT THE HELL?! You cannot come home with a pregnancy test and then not take it until morning. That's a ridiculous thing to suggest to anyone waiting on that result. I was about month late by this time so there was little chance waiting until morning to pee on the stick would somehow be more or less conclusive. Just to be on the safe side I grabbed a Dixie cup to collect a good sample and I dipped the stick in until I felt I'd properly done the job. I wasn't taking any chances when it came to aiming for the stick. That's right.. I saved all my chance taking for unprotected sex.
I remember walking back to the living room holding the stick of doom. The scene sticks in my head for a couple of reasons.
1. I was about to find out whether or not I had a parasite growing in my uterus.
2. My guy was flipping through a Fingerhut catalog. This is only odd because it was a rare occasion that he wasn't enmeshed in a battle of wills with Final Fantasy for Sega. <I still say Sega the way they used say it on the commercials... SEGA!>
I took a deep breath and took my finger off the little window on the stick. Two lines. SON OF A BITCH!
"Well, I guess I'm pregnant." I said.
He nodded and replied, "So, what do you want? A black one or a white one?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean? A white one of course. Jesus, Mark!" (Now before you go thinking that was a racist comment... you should know my ex is also white and I thought he was accusing me of having an affair.)
"I meant for the indoor grill. Do you want the white one or the black one?" He said.
I am sure there were plenty of signs, upon further reflection, that Mark and I were not on the same page mentally. Maybe the fact that he continued to date while we were living together? Maybe that he was 7 years older than me? Maybe that while I was telling him that we were going to be parents he was more concerned with the color of a piece of crap kitchen counter appliance from a low rate catalog?
So my question for the day is... What's for lunch? All this hormonal thank God I'm not pregnant talk has got me hungry.