How I Found Out I Was Pregnant

It was a few days before my period was due, and I could hardly contain myself. Could this be the month that I was pregnant? I didn't feel any different, but I was optimistic.

My husband was already at work when I woke up. I practically ran to the bathroom and unwrapped one of the many pregnancy tests I kept under the sink. After reading the instructions, I followed each step carefully. I set an alarm for five minutes and put the test on the countertop , then, I waited. Would I be a new mom soon?

One line appeared, as it always did. But the second line -- the important line -- did not. I checked the alarm; it was about to go off. I looked at the test again and sighed. No second line. I tried to cheer up by reminding myself that it was pretty early in my cycle to be testing. This month could still be the month. I guess today just wasn't the day, I’d have to wait a little longer for our new addition to the family.

I tossed the test in the trash and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. A little while later, I felt this strange sensation come over me. "Go look at the test again!" popped into my head. I’ve double-checked tests before; this time seemed different.

Two lines! There were two lines on the pregnancy test. The second line was very faint, but it was definitely there. I was going to be a new mom!

I immediately ripped open another test...and another…and another. I took six more tests before I was convinced that I was pregnant! I remember sitting down on the couch, heart pounding, as I contemplated my future. A baby! I looked at my positive tests over and over again to reassure myself that it was real. Once it sunk in, I began to think about telling my husband and smiled as I realized that he’d be just as excited about our growing family.

Finding out that I was pregnant was the best moment of my life -- until our son was born, of course!

Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash

Birth Stories: The Waiting Game

“Any day now,” my ob-gyn said two weeks before my due date of January 23, 2013. I was 4 centimeters dilated and 80 percent effaced, meaning I was going to meet my daughter soon. That day, I hugged my co-workers goodbye, organized the baby’s armoire for the 15th time, had my husband fuel up the car, and waited. My due date came and went -- nothing.

I continued the countdown for a few more days, crossing the 28th off the calendar, and went in for another checkup. My doctor looked perplexed. “I’m rarely wrong,” she said, eyeing my bump. “You shouldn’t go beyond a week and a half,” she added. “We may have to induce.” She gave me a few dates to choose from for an induction, but I was intent on going into labor naturally. I didn’t think my late delivery would go much longer. So I took my belly home and researched ways I could hurry things along: long walks, spicy food, pineapple juice. Check, check, check, but still nothing.

A few days later I came across another suggestion: eggplant parmigiana! I read about a restaurant in Georgia that has served this dish to more than 300 expectant mothers who reportedly gave birth within 48 hours. I was skeptical but decided to take a chance, if only to enjoy a nice lunch before my days of eating out were put on pause. Three hours later I felt a few twinges that slowly escalated into full-blown contractions. Coincidence?

I was in labor. Here we go, I thought. I called my husband at work, and he quickly reminded me of the old 5-1-1 rule (contractions should be 5 minutes apart, lasting 1 minute each for 1 hour). I sat on my couch and thought about all those women who had regaled me with stories about how they did the laundry or went to the movies while they were laboring. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

Around 10 p.m., the contractions were coming quickly -- 5-1-1 was in full effect -- so I met my ob-gyn at the hospital. But a quick check of my cervix revealed I wasn’t sufficiently dilated. My choices were simple: Go all the way home and labor some more, or stay in the hospital and be induced. I later discovered my doctor had scheduled me for an induction at 6 a.m. the next day, which meant there was a hospital bed waiting for me.

I still thought my baby would arrive before daybreak, so I decided to stay the night. It must have been quite cozy inside my belly because she didn’t budge on that cold winter’s night. The next morning I was induced and Eva made her fashionably late entrance into the world at 7:24 p.m. on February 1, 2013. We forgave her lack of punctuality as soon as we saw her beautiful little face.

Photo by Xavier Mouton Photographie on Unsplash