Hope and Earthquakes

I really dislike buying pregnancy tests.   I thought about it and it's not like I'm buying Depends or hemorrhoid cream or some other equally embarrassing hygienic item.   But I'm pretty sure part of it is because I don't just buy one box.  They're like Pringles- you can't just have one.  I usually pick up two or three boxes because I know I have a problem and I like peeing on sticks and holding my head at certain angles and taking pictures of them to text to my friends to ask, "do you see a line???" And when I don't see a line, or maybe a barely-there squinter that I can only see when I hold it up to the window and tilt it at a 45 degree angle, I'll blame the box of "faulty" tests because it's easier than blaming my body.  So, I figure I had better make sure I have a couple of boxes of tests, just in case one of those boxes is a dud and maybe they just forgot to put enough dye in them or something like that.


The thing is, I know my body isn't faulty at all.  Well, it didn't use to be.  I've done this before- twice.  And after I had Milo, I swore up and down that we were done.  After what amounted to almost three years of being either pregnant or breastfeeding and at the mercy of my ever-shifting hormones, I wasn't sure I wanted to jump on board the baby train ever again.  


But look what just pulled into the station.


And so there I stood, at the counter of CVS trying not to make eye contact with the young man who was ringing me up and I wondered why it couldn't have been a woman working that day.  She'd at least get it.  I mean, just about every woman has bought a pregnancy test at least once or twice in her life.   Why did I suddenly feel so embarrassed?   Maybe it was because he might have remembered seeing me in there the month before, buying the same tests.   As I took the box of sticks out of the basket, I might as well have been heaving the gigantic elephant in the room up onto the counter by myself.   Look everyone!  I'm trying to get pregnant!  I've actually been trying for a while now and I'm starting to feel really beat down because it's like my body doesn't work like it used to and even though my OB says it will happen, I'm just not sure I believe him anymore.


Yeah.  That elephant.


But, if I knew anything from past stick-purchasing experiences, he would be like everyone else and at least pretend he didn't notice them.  Neither of us would say a thing and I'd be on my way.


But then he did say something.   And I wasn't sure I heard him right the first time.


"I'm sorry, what?"  I stuttered.  Surely, he wasn't calling me out.  He couldn't have just asked about the tests.


"Are you hoping?" he said again, a little louder.  But there was a glimmer in his eyes.  He couldn't have been any older than 21 or 22.  I quickly did a mental checklist of what was in my bag: a package of Fig Newtons and some hair clips.  Nothing exciting about those.  I knew exactly what he was referring to.


He smiled at me- a good, genuine smile.  I laughed nervously.  "Oh."  I felt my cheeks burn a little.   "Yeah.  Yeah, I am."   


"Boy or girl?" he pressed.


"Well, I have one of each at home already, but it wouldn't matter to me in any case."  As I spoke, I felt my embarrassment start to fade, to be replaced by gratitude.


"I'm having my first," he blurted. "It's a girl.  She's due on December 20th."  And I looked at this kid (really, that's all he was) and he wasn't smiling anymore.  Now he was outright beaming.  So proud and so excited and so....real.  And I thought about all the things he could have asked me, as it pertained to the boxes of tests--  Are you trying?  Are you pregnant already?  (Are you crazy????)  

But he didn't ask that.  He just asked--


Are you hoping?


Suddenly, I wondered why I even thought it taboo for him to bring it up?  This kid is getting ready to be a father and I can see just by looking at him that he's totally eaten up with it.  He wants to talk about it.  He gets what all of the fuss is about and knows enough about life to know that buying pregnancy tests is, in fact, a big deal- no matter how you look at it.   It's not a pack of gum.  And instead of seeing a tired, frazzled woman try to pay for her stuff and run, he chose to speak a reality that I haven't wanted to claim for myself.


It's okay to be hopeful.


It's okay to get beat down and lose.  And lose some more.


It's okay to let people see you try and fail.  But keep trying.


It's okay to let them hold you up.


It's okay to think for yourself, to not do what everyone expects you to do.


It's okay to let go of preconceived notions and embrace new ideas.   Difficult- but okay.  Maybe even recommended.



And so I congratulated him.  I told him to get ready to say goodbye to his money and his will and that his world was about to be turned upside down in all the best ways possible.  For a minute, I wanted to go back in time and be having our first all over again- to not know what we didn't know and then feel the earthquake of that fiery love and hope and fear when they hand you that baby for the first time.


I've been blessed beyond belief for no other reason than that I've experienced that earthquake twice in my life.



And maybe, I'll get to feel it just once more.



I'm hopeful.