It was an average summer Friday afternoon for any 26-year-old care-free girl. I had been counting the minutes at work until quittin' time, which had been moving especially slow that day because my love bug Christopher had gotten us a box at the Reno Rodeo for that night, and I absolutely couldn't wait. I was even leaving work a little early so I'd have time to shower and curl my hair before I had to meet him at home. But somewhere in the back of my mind, almost masked by my excitement, was that same nagging feeling I'd had for a couple weeks; something was off.
I had been having some strange "symptoms" for about two weeks, specifically a pair of incredibly tender and sore boobs, among others... But I had started a very intense workout bootcamp around the same time as the soreness, so I attributed it to my new badass weightlifting skills. After all, every other muscle in my body was sore, so why wouldn't my 'pecs' be as well? But as the rest of me began to loosen up and adjust to the new workouts, my boobs just got more sore.
Then there was my period. Or I should say, lack there of... It had threatened to come, several times, leaving me with terrible cramps and unrelenting achiness, but that was it. I stocked my purse with tams, convinced it would be here any day, any minute. I waited...and waited.
And waited. Until that Friday, when something inside me urged me to just eliminate the possibility that I was... you know. Maybe it was because I knew I'd have a frosty Coors Light that night at the rodeo, in true redneck fashion. Or maybe it was because I'd eaten sushi for dinner the night before and the guilt, that I didn't even really realize at the time was guilt, was begging for vindication. Or just maybe, it was mother's intuition. Whatever the reason, I drove to my house, where I knew there was a very, very old pregnancy test, and took it.
Let's be clear. I have taken pregnancy tests before. I was always panicked about it, always anxious for the result, always stressed. This time I was not. I knew the possibility of it being positive was the slimmest to none. I peed on the stick, set is aside, and forgot about it. Half an hour later, I was halfway out the door to head up to Chris' house to get ready, when I remembered the test. I walked back in to the bathroom, just to make sure, and well, there it was, loud and clear, and pink, and bold, and terrifying..... the LINE.
I was pregnant.
