First Response: one solid pink line and… one very, very faint pink line. Could it mean I’m pregnant?
I studied those lines for several minutes, convinced I was imagining the second line. I took a couple of pictures, just in case, since Jay is deployed. I need a record of the event, right? I still couldn’t tell. The line got darker over an hour or so, which doesn’t mean anything, I know. The test guidelines are very clear about not attempting to read the test after an hour. I could see something, though. The kit said if there was even a faint line, I was pregnant. But how faint is faint? I knew I couldn’t go to bed and sleep until I took another test. I never really enjoyed chemistry and this was why—inconclusive results.
I had the First Response test lying around from months past, but my ovulation predictor kit came with a free pregnancy test. Thankfully, it was a Clearblue Digital. There was no question this time. The chemistry experiment was successful.
Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.
The word looks strange if you stare at it long enough, as I have been for the last thirty minutes. Pregnant. I don’t know when the digital stops showing the result, but it’s still there. Pregnant.
It seems I’m pregnant. I’m 41 and I’m pregnant. After only having two months to try while Jay was home, one of those when I had pneumonia, I didn’t think it would happen until the end of this year. Maybe even next year. Maybe never. But it was a mid-deployment rendezvous in St. Augustine, Florida that got us here.
Pregnant.
I studied those lines for several minutes, convinced I was imagining the second line. I took a couple of pictures, just in case, since Jay is deployed. I need a record of the event, right? I still couldn’t tell. The line got darker over an hour or so, which doesn’t mean anything, I know. The test guidelines are very clear about not attempting to read the test after an hour. I could see something, though. The kit said if there was even a faint line, I was pregnant. But how faint is faint? I knew I couldn’t go to bed and sleep until I took another test. I never really enjoyed chemistry and this was why—inconclusive results.
I had the First Response test lying around from months past, but my ovulation predictor kit came with a free pregnancy test. Thankfully, it was a Clearblue Digital. There was no question this time. The chemistry experiment was successful.
Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.
The word looks strange if you stare at it long enough, as I have been for the last thirty minutes. Pregnant. I don’t know when the digital stops showing the result, but it’s still there. Pregnant.
It seems I’m pregnant. I’m 41 and I’m pregnant. After only having two months to try while Jay was home, one of those when I had pneumonia, I didn’t think it would happen until the end of this year. Maybe even next year. Maybe never. But it was a mid-deployment rendezvous in St. Augustine, Florida that got us here.
Pregnant.
