I swear that before we even left the hospital with D, people were asking me when we would try for #2.
While I feigned exasperation at the question, the truth is, I knew we would wait until D’s first birthday before trying again, even though I remember at times thinking I’d be so happy if I had 2 or 3 of him RIGHT NOW. Why couldn’t twins run in my family? He was such an easy baby those first 10 months, before the co-sleeping issues started.
Full disclosure: I never went back on birth control after weaning D at 7 months, but we were still pretty careful. Then, after D turned one, I started getting the itch. I knew I wanted my kids to be fairly close in age. I also wanted to be pregnant around the same time of year so I could reuse my maternity wardrobe (no matter how frumpy it was the first time around). Silly? Probably. But sensible? YES. Besides, I like having spring babies. (Ok, so D was born at the unofficial beginning of summer around Memorial Day, but still. TECHNICALLY it was still spring.) So with that timeline in mind, we figured we’d start trying in August or September. And by trying, I mean using ovulation tests to make sure things were happening when they should. We don’t mess around when we’re really “TRYING”.
But it was late June/early July and we weren’t, technically, trying just yet. So on one hand, we were a little surprised to see the positive test, but on the other, knew it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility considering our lack of preventative measures. So when I was almost a week late (which is normal, considering my cycle), I decided to go ahead and use one of my cheapo pregnancy tests that came with my ovulation kit, back when we were trying for D. That cheapo test had actually failed me before as they’re not very good at detecting early pregnancy, but I wasn’t keen on wasting one of my “good” tests when I was pretty certain I was NOT pregnant.
So I peed in a cup and dipped the strip. (I don’t pee on sticks. Too messy.) And then I waited for about five minutes (because cheapo tests take longer like that) just STARING at it. Not seeing anything, I pulled up my pants and washed my hands. Then I took another glance and…wait. Is that…a really, REALLY faint second line? I started at it for awhile and remembered hearing that if even the faintest of second lines appears, you’re pregnant. Maybe just a little pregnant but still…pregnant. I immediately dove into my bottom bathroom drawer and pulled out a “good” test. One of those First Response ones. I dipped it in the cup and BAM! Second lined showed up before the control line could even appear. Two lines in a matter of seconds. This wasn’t just a little pregnant. I was “Hot damn you’re knocked up!” pregnant.
Cue surprise and excitement!! Then I started calculating due dates. Late March. What Zodiac sign is that? Aries? Oh no. (Don’t ask me why I thought “oh no” – I don’t even know anything about Aries!) How far apart will my kids be? 22 months. Double oh no. My mom and aunt are 22 months apart and they HATE each other. Always have, always will. Talk about raining on my own parade.
Realizing the hubs would be home soon, I needed to get back into excitement mode. I wanted to find a creative way to tell him our news. I knew he’d be happy, but also probably a bit shocked. I didn’t have much time, so I pulled out a plain white onesie and with a sharpie I wrote “BIG BROTHER” on it. It looked awful. On top of that, D was napping. But I did what any newly pregnant (and slightly crazy) mama would do and I changed his clothes anyway. I tried my hardest not to wake him but, you try having someone pull a shirt over your head and not wake up. Not happening. So he was awake now and cranky, so I took him outside to play while we waited for daddy to return from the store. Once he pulled up, I grabbed D so that his onesie was visible. He started to unload the beer from the car and I made a comment along the lines of “Well, I guess you shouldn’t have bought any for me.” So that pretty much gave it away before he even had a chance to read D’s shirt. I really must’ve caught him off guard because he was definitely shocked. Happy, but shocked. No crazy bear hugs. Just a “Huh. That was fast. Wow.”
It wasn’t as romantic and emotional as the first time, when I told him during a trip to NYC with a cute “dad” mug. I’m already starting to see how second pregnancies really get the short end of the pee stick. But we couldn’t be happier or feel any luckier than we do right now. Baby #2 is still just a tiny little nugget with A LOT of growing left to do, but we already know he or she is going to make our family so much more awesome.