Pregnancy: Week 4
Thursday, Friday, Saturday & Sunday
A negative pregnancy test sends me into more confusion and, of course, disappointment. The spotting I experienced since Day 23 of my cycle has yet to stop, and the uncertainty of it all unsettles me.
We return home on Friday, and on the plane, I resign myself to not being pregnant. I am somewhat thankful because traveling always takes a toll on my body and health, of which I would prefer not to subject a growing baby.
We spend Saturday recuperating from our trip and settling into home life. I send an e-mail to my naturopath, describing my cycle and requesting lab slips for bloodwork.
Sunday rolls around and places us square into Halloween festivities. I welcome the distraction of costumes and trick-or-treating. We meet Thais and her family for dinner, where Thais offers me an opportunity to re-test at her house. I wave the opportunity off because I cannot bear to see another negative stick.
Monday
I call my naturopath’s office to schedule an appointment for Thursday morning.
Tuesday
I am still swirling in confusion — still no blood. I have lost track of whether I am still spotting or not. Moments before I pick Taylor up from school, I decide to consult my tarot cards.
I choose four instead of three. The first card reveals the struggle of my ego and my lack of inner harmony. The second offers hope and clarity and asks me to fulfill my destiny. The third depicts a woman wearing a three-pearled necklace with a fourth pearl sitting in her palm. She is here to show me that my heart’s longing is for the asking. The fourth card reveals the integrity that comes with living in alignment and represents “aspects of my essence that have long laid dormant (which) are now surfacing for full expression”.
I jump up and make an unexpected trip to the drugstore before reuniting with Taylor.
Once back at home, I take another test, and in less than the prescribed time, I see a “+” sign in the window. I don’t know what to do with myself. Tears begin to well in my chest and push their way up to my eyes. I lay one hand on my heart as the flood rises but I consciously stop the flow. While I want to share the news with Taylor, I want to tell Jim first, and he is still biking home.
Unsettled now with excitement, I walk to and from the kitchen (where Taylor is) and the front window. Back and forth. Back and forth. Completely distracted and unable to think of anything else, I ask Taylor to hypothetically predict the season in which her future sibling would be born.
“I think summer is a nice time of year, ” she replied.
I then inquire about the baby’s gender, and after a thoughtful moment, Taylor proclaims that the baby will be a girl.
I think of the third tarot card I pulled that afternoon and its astrological sign, Cancer. This detail is usually unimportant to me, but this time I am drawn to its significance. I power up the computer to discover that the Cancer sign spans from June 22 to July 22 — squarely at the beginning of summer (as Taylor had predicted).
Jim finally arrives. I nonchalantly ask him if we have plans for this upcoming summer, and, with a curious look, he asks, “Why?”.
“Because we’re having a baby,” I answer.
We are both suspended somewhere between excitement, doubt, and disbelief. Three hours later, I pee on another stick, and that’s positive too. We call our respective mothers and swear them to secrecy.
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This post was written as I recalled the events leading up to Week 5.