Maybe, in some ways, we were.
Then one Tuesday morning, I woke with a low ache in my stomach that felt oddly familiar.
The second line appeared so fast it felt insulting.
On the drive to work, a thought crossed my mind that I had not let myself think in years.
What if?
I almost laughed at myself. I was old enough to know better. I had trained myself not to read meaning into every symptom. Still, after work, I stopped at a pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test, mostly to prove to myself that nothing had changed.
The second line appeared so fast it felt insulting.
I stared at it for a full minute, then drove to another pharmacy and bought two more. Those were positive too. The next morning I scheduled blood work. By late afternoon, a nurse called and confirmed what I still barely believed.
After all those years, after all that silence, I was pregnant.
