A couple of days ago I was at an open mic. I got off a bar stool and felt a weird pull in the left side of my pelvis.
Oh, that’s weird.
I had taken a pregnancy test about 10 days prior and it was negative. But I’d been extraordinarily tired recently and had come the day before and started crying seemingly just because it had been a long, hot day.
I decided I’d take another one in a few days. My period was due any day. But then, Friday, July 24th around 6:00am.
I stood just inside our bedroom.
“You’re not pregnant.”
My husband jumped out of bed and followed me to the bathroom. He picked the stick up in his hand.
“I just peed on that.”
“Can I hug you?”