So

This morning, S peed on a cheapie internet HPT. It was negative. After an hour or so, I checked it again, because, you know, I’m *crazy* (as evidenced HERE). And there was an ever so faintly faint bit of faintness. I already had the pee in a cup (she knows me so well) so I tested again with another cheapie. Nothing. Nothing, that is, in the allotted time. Nothing in 20 minutes. But at 25 minutes, when it was mostly dry, the same faint-squint-under-the-right-light-maybe-it-is-there line appeared. This is the line I have been hoping for. Something to obsess about. Something to take pictures of and post for other insane women to squint at. But in the these 10 months, the HPTs are always, as J says, mocking me with their whiteness.

I called S. I didn’t want to excite her unnecessarily, but I was freaking myself out. I have looked at these fuckers so many times with nothing. I have even tested the same pee 3 times, just to make sure I was not holding the stick in too long, or not long enough. Again, crazy.

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This morning I finally I took some pictures of the tests. And emailed them to Calliope, who happened to be online at that exact moment. She verified that there was something there, but at this point, S had not even seen the tests. I emailed them to her. I called WTF, because even if the tests were negative, she could take that ride with me. Love her. Love her. Love her.

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I was increasingly believing that the tests were positive, but needed confirmation, and I hate getting my hopes up. I called S, told her per WTF, that she was under strict orders not to drink ANYTHING for the rest of the day.

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I picked S up. We went to the drug store. Bought some Answer HPTs. She peed on one.

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PREGNANT.

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Fucking pregnant. This test was undeniably, unequivocally, totally, clearly *pinkly* pregnant.

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When I called to tell WTF, SHE DIDN’T ANSWER HER PHONE. Eventually we got a hold of her (her 5 year old son was on the phone with a friend when I called). That was a satisfying fucking phone call. Fuck. Fucking fuck. Pregnant.

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I must swear, and then swear some more. I have sworn so much over this in the last two years (well August will be two years). Lucky try number 10! I have thought so much about how to make this post. I wanted it to be witty and smart and make everyone cry. I wanted it to be perfect.

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Now that I’m here, I just don’t care about any of that. I just want to tell all of you who have cried with me, been jealous with me, been dashed by KDs with me, had to switch gears with me, stared at blank pregnancy tests with me, lost faith with me, regained faith with me, that we are here. Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.

Even if it doesn’t stay that way or something goes terribly wrong. Right now, we are 11 DPO, and pregnant. Two pink lines. Not one. Not blank. Pink. A pink line. My love is having our baby.