Simply Speaking

August 23, 2017. Seven months to the day since we found out we were pregnant. I hadn’t made the connection until just now, but all evening I’ve been feeling especially sentimental, reminiscing over and over about the day those two pink lines first appeared. I opened the letters I wrote to both Ty and our baby that very night, and there it was in the top corner of each page: January 23, 2017. Oh, how much has changed since that treasured day; how much has grown, including the love we have for our sweet little babe.

The day of the big news was classic Chicago January—all grey skies and chilly air. Ty and I woke up around 4:30am so that we could make it to the gym in time for its 5:00am opening (can you tell it was the start of the New Year?). For some reason I felt compelled to take a pregnancy test right before we headed out the door.

Just the day before (Sunday), I had been feeling particularly restless. I of course knew it was possible that I was pregnant, but the couple of tests I had taken a few days prior told me otherwise. Not wanting to be obsessive about testing, I had decided to wait a week before pulling the little sticks out again. Still, I was filled with a restless energy that Sunday—a day that originally held no plans for us. I eventually told Ty that I thought I needed a “city day.” This is usually code for “I need a dose of inspiration,” but on this particular day I was more in need of a distraction. I told him I didn’t quite know what I was feeling, but I knew I didn’t want to sit home all day with my mind running the same circuit over and over.

Within a half hour we were on 90 East headed into Chicago. We ate lunch at Shake Shack, one of our go-to burger joints, which eventually caused a week’s worth of worry after I found out I actually was pregnant and realized I had eaten a very far-from-well-done burger (oh, those early anxieties!). Afterward, Ty headed to Starbucks to study and read for a bit while I did some shopping at one of my favorite boutiques on State Street. I then met up with him and sipped a warm vanilla latte with whip (again, the caffeine consumption would worry me in the coming days!) while trying to focus my mind enough to read. We eventually hopped back in the car and headed to the suburbs, me feeling as though I had been somewhat successful in shedding my restless energy. If nothing else, it had been a sweet afternoon spent together in the city. It would be our last one before finding out we were going to be a family of three. Somewhere deep down, I think I knew this.

I honestly can’t remember much of what we did the rest of the day, but it did not include taking a pregnancy test. I think we had a nice quiet evening at home, prepping for the start of a new week.

Which brings me back to the earliest hours of Monday. With the morning sky still dark, I grabbed Ty and headed to the bathroom. We left the test on the counter and waited the necessary three minutes before peeking at the result. We were used to seeing one distinct line, but this time there was the faintest sign of a second one. It was just barely there, but it was definitely present. This had never happened before. What did it mean?

I had read enough pregnancy forums by this point to know that it’s rare to get a false positive. I also knew that the test had to be picking up on something or that second line would not have registered. Still, I didn’t want to get either of our hopes up. Of course we were out of tests, so re-testing at that very moment was not an option. We ended up assuming it was most likely a negative and proceeded with our plans to head to the gym. Looking back, I’m somewhat surprised that this was our posture. We did not, however, throw the test away.

I remember trading my usual run for a brisk walk that morning. I’m sure I had the news on, but I had troubling focusing on anything other than the thought that we might actually be pregnant. I began to feel fragile and extremely protective of my body. I slowed my walk while my mind continued at hyper speed. The bubbling excitement inside of me was increasing by the minute.

After the gym we headed straight home to ready ourselves for the day. We both kept peeking at the test in wonder, as though we could will it to tell us more. Needless to say, it did not. We eventually left for work/school, deciding that we would pick up additional tests later that evening on our way back home.

As soon as I got to work I started Googling things like “faint positive on pregnancy test” and “how early can you find out you’re pregnant?” The more I read, the more I began to realize that what we had assumed was a negative result might actually have been a positive one, albeit a very early positive. I have no idea what I did at work all day because my mind was most certainly preoccupied with other things. At some point, however, I either texted or met up with Ty to share what I had been reading. We were still cautious not to get our hopes up too much—again, even if we were pregnant, it was very early in the game.

When it was finally time to head home for the day, we ordered carry-out pizza from Sarpino’s and ran to the store to grab another pregnancy test while we waited for the food to be ready. Once we were home, we somehow managed to eat dinner and relax for a bit before running upstairs to test again. When I finally did pull the test out of the box, I began to feel so nervous. And even more excited.

As the test sat on the bathroom counter, in approximately the same spot the other one had been earlier that morning, I remember sitting next to Ty on the bed, somewhat speechless as we watched the seconds tick away on the timer he had set on his phone. When it was finally time to check the test, we walked into the bathroom hand-in-hand, neither of us daring to look in the direction of the verdict just yet. We closed our eyes and then opened them at the same time to find two pink lines staring up at us. Two lines. Two distinct lines. We were pregnant.

What ensued for the next twenty or thirty minutes was a mixture of shock and awe—and an inability to leave the bathroom. In between bouts of tears and smiles, we simply stood there marveling at the lines. The lines that, for the time being, were the only signs of the growing life inside of me.

That moment (and the ones that followed)—those moments after we first learned that we were going to be parents—are hands down some of my favorite of all time. Given the chance to relive them over and over again I most certainly would. Or, on second thought, maybe I wouldn’t. Maybe I would choose to let them be—frozen in time as they are on a cold January night just outside of Chicago. When a husband and a wife learned on a quiet Monday evening that they were going to be a dad and a mom. Oh, the sweetness. May I forever be able to recall the feeling of that otherwise unremarkable day turned absolutely extraordinary.

We are so thankful.