Not. Pregnant.

I can’t believe how relieved I am. I didn’t even want to know. Seriously. Right before Becky Jo left on Sunday morning, I was three days late and I tested, and it was negative. We’d bought two packs at the Dollar Store; since a baby site had told me they were just as accurate, only a tenth the cost. “NOPE!” I announced, bounding down the stairs, and we both did the mixed sad-happy smile. Okay. Whew.

Then tonight I was looking at the calendar, and realized it’s almost February. And– nothing. It’s been a week now. Suddenly the dollar store tests seemed like a trick– I mean, dollar store tests? What was I thinking? I told Jason I had to go out at 10:52 at night to get a test from Harris Teeter. “A BRAND NAME test,” I added. “Something that’s supposed to tell me four seconds after the baby’s there.”

Jason had the good sense to just nod in gentle, supportive understanding. Jason, for whatever (few) faults he has, is fantastic when it comes to anything involving pregnancy.

The entire way to the store, all I could think of was Addie and Amy. Over and over. Everything that went wrong with Addie. Having to relive the NICU. Having weeks, months, years of wondering if a child is going to be normal. And now, just recently hearing about Amy– someone I knew and loved who passed away right after delivering. God, Amy– I think about her twenty times a day. I thought about her doing our taxes, when it asked if a spouse was recently deceased: I imagined her husband filing next year. It’s still some of the worst news I’ve ever heard. I was running through every possible horrible but plausible scenario in my mind while I parked, and walked down the pregnancy slash prevention aisle. This was a literal pregnancy SCARE. I was out-of-my-mind terrified.

I took the test and set it down, walked away, waited the three full minutes. One line. Clearly. One single line.

I still have that residual fear– maybe this one was wrong, maybe it’s too early– it took almost a month until I got a positive with Addie. But still. This is about as clear as I can get until Mother Nature does her part.

Jason: “So?”

“No. It’s negative.”

I sat down on the couch and folded my legs over his. He smiled at me. “I was going to say– when you came downstairs. You didn’t look pregnant at all. You looked pretty much the opposite. But if I’d said that, everything would’ve been jinxed.”

“Oh yeah,” I agreed. “If you said that, I would be SUPER pregnant.”

We laughed.

“Guess what you’re getting for our anniversary?” I added. “FIXED.”

“Deal,” he replied. Like I said, Jason is awesome about this pregnancy stuff. (Sidenote: I’m actually trying to track down a place that rents Audis, since it’s been his dream to own one since we met. I took a little money out of the anniversary fund to do it. After the vasectomy joke, the real gift will be twice as sweet.)