When I got up, I checked both tests again to see if I was going crazy. (Even though I am fully aware that you shouldn't recheck a pregnancy test after it has been sitting for more than 10 minutes). The lines were still there, but I told myself that meant absolutely nothing at all. I was absolutely positive the doctor was going to say, "Sorry honey. It's negative again."
In an effort to brace myself for bad news, I went by the store and picked up two more pregnancy tests, but different kinds. I figured that when they sent me back to pee in the cup, I would do my home test at the same time, that way I would be prepared for whatever the doctor had to say. So I peed on the stick, then peed in the cup and wrote my name on it. When I picked up the home test, I felt like all my thoughts and fears became reality. The test didn't even have a faint second line. I went back out and sat in the waiting room, telling myself how stupid I was for even thinking I could be pregnant. When they called me back, the nurse took my vitals and told me that the urine test was negative. Pulling for any strands of hope that I could find, I told her that in 2012 when I had my miscarriage, I couldn't get a positive urine test. I had to have a blood test to determine pregnancy. She seemed doubtful, but she decided to just "do one anyways....just in case." She told me that I would receive a phone call the following morning with the results. I left the doctor's office very disappointed and heartbroken. I was glad I hadn't dragged Daniel along the roller coaster the past couple days just to get bad news. I wasn't anxious or nervous about the phone call I was waiting for. I already knew what the answer would be. Why anxiously wait for something that would never happen, right?
No comments:
Post a Comment