You're married and you might be facing an unplanned pregnancy. Do you get scared? Excited? Jen tells us her story of "maybe, baby" as her husband and she deal with the possibility of becoming a trio.

"I'm late." I said to Andrew one morning a couple weeks ago.

"Late? You're always late to work. Just get a move on." This was not the response I was expecting.

"No, I mean LATE, as in late, as in baby-late, as in no-aunt-flo-late. That kinda late."

"Oh, that kinda late." He sat down on the bed. Then looked up. "You're on the pill, you can't get pregnant."

I decided not to remind him of our friends who were also on the pill. They have two kids. Obviously the fetuses were using the pills she took as some sort of prenatal earmuffs. Anyway, back to the topic at hand. So I was late, and not just a little late. Four days late. It was time for the talk. You know, the "what if" talk.

Andrew and I had the potential "what if" talk at various times during our relationship. After we got engaged, we agreed that the "what if" only had one answer�we have the baby. Now that we were married that was carved even deeper into the stone of our relationship. In my mind, though I am pro-choice, there wasn't one. Regardless of our credit card debt, our unfinished rooms upstairs and my inability to even fathom the idea of not drinking wine for nine months, if the test was positive this baby was moving in.

"So what if" I said.

"If you're not, we get sad and accept it's for the best, and if you are, we celebrate our new baby."

Oh yeah, that's why I love this guy. And loving him so much made me want a positive test more�sometimes�well�kinda�I mean it was bad timing�and we're just getting settled and the house isn't ready.

Okay�more to the point, I wasn't ready.

So first test. I'll leave you out of the graphics. One stripe for no. Two stripes for yes. Wait five minutes. Negative. Relief. Sigh. Deep sigh. Wait a day. Still late. Call doctor.

"Hmm, you're that late. You're on the pill. You need to get a blood test. Those over-the-counter tests are notoriously unreliable."

Really? News to me. Who knew?

Next day. Doctor's office is closed, so I have to get blood test at one of those Emergicare places. Andrew comes with me because I hate needles. I can't stand getting poked. It's because a) it hurts and b) my veins are small so they collapse and then it hurts a lot. He gets freaked when first attempt to draw blood leaves me moaning in pain. They pull out the butterfly needle and he's outta there. At which point, I realize my husband will be completely useless in the delivery room.

Long story short. After waiting two days�the test comes back. Negative. And this one really counts. Deep deep deep sigh. Little bit of relief and more sighing. Lots more sighing.

In those two days of testing and waiting, somehow, that little potential kid became real to both of us. We had figured out when it was hypothetically conceived�our one year anniversary. We had vetoed each other's top name choice and called it stupid. I had not bought really cute lingerie because obviously the stuff I had was effective. We had thought of cute ways to tell the grandparents. It's amazing what you can accomplish in two days of possibilities.

Years ago, a possible pregnancy would have thrown me into nightmarish fits of anxiety, this one threw us in to a dreamy state of hope. Maybe the difference was the pronouns. Now there was this "us" thing where once there was just a "me." And "us" having a baby was so much less scary and so much more wonderful than "me" having one.

So we sighed, we talked, and realized that maybe "we" weren't so "unready" after all.

~~~~~

Jennifer Lofquist is a freelance writer and Gen �Xer in Sterling, Virginia. In 2001, she married "the Beloved," bought a house, and supposedly became an adult, though many of her friends would disagree. Her interests are writing, history, cooking, crafting, and her cat Jasper. She is convinced that she would have been able to make Henry VIII a happily married man.

Volume B Issue 8 August 2002 Copyright 2002 Gx Webzine All Rights Rsvd.

Volume B Issue 8 August 2002
Copyright 2002 Gx Webzine All Rights Rsvd.