Our journey begins months prior, in June 2016, when I had a false positive? Chemical pregnancy? It was a surprise for us – I was on birth control but had been on a bunch of medication that month. I’ve always wanted a baby, Rylend didn’t know if he wanted another. We went to the clinic, discussing abortion options and my heart slowly broke, just to be told it was too early for the urine test to pick it up, but they were going to send me for bloodwork. It didn’t matter, I was already bleeding. I never went for further testing to find out if I miscarried. I couldn’t handle the truth. I was broken all month, in and out of the counsellor and an emotional mess. R wasn’t sure how to handle me. I was a wreck.
Two months later, R sat me down and said he had been thinking on it, and he was ready to start trying to conceive. I was certain it wasn’t going to be easy, but he had an unplanned child already and was convinced it would happen with a simple sneeze. Obviously, it didn’t work that way. After many months and dollars in ovulation tests, negative pregnancy tests, tears, and broken dreams, we finally realized something was probably wrong. I could have still just been coming off birth control, but I wasn’t ovulating regularly and I had a lot of fear. It took another two months, but we finally convinced a doctor to start some testing. R gave his sperm sample, and I began the blood tests. I knew my depression and negativity wasn’t helping, so I created a collage of positivity photos around our bathroom mirror, and went in for acupuncture hoping it would at least help me relax. What do you know? I ovulated that month.
The weekend of April 22nd we decided to move up our wedding date. We had a lot of family members we were concerned wouldn’t be around in a year and a half, so for our piece of mind, we moved the date forward. Our wedding was now 4.5 months away! We discussed it, and decided to hold off on further testing and actively trying to conceive until after the wedding, though we weren’t going to prevent it either.
So I woke up the morning of April 29th fully expecting my period at some point during the day. In a couple days I go buy my wedding dress, so for shits and giggles (and partially so I knew if I’d need to order up), I decided to take a test. I’ve taken plenty of tests and they’re always negative. I don’t know what made me decide to try other than a whim. So I peed on the little stick and got up, washed my hands, and glanced over at it. Wait – was that a line? It’s super faint, but it looked like a plus to me. I downloaded a contrast app to see, and I was pretty sure there was a line. I asked R and he said he didn’t think it was there, and I asked my best friend (who was staying with us for the week) and she said to not be so cheap and take a digital! (I guess I should also mention she was half asleep… haha!) So I drank a bunch of water and held my bladder for the next four hours to try again. Longest four hours of my life. Seriously. I had to pee so bad I was practically dancing, but eventually the time rolled around, and I peed on yet another stick, staring at the rotating hour glass on the digital as I impatiently waited for the result. BAM! Pregnant. 1-2 weeks. NO WAY! R was at work already, but as calmly as I could, I walked to the living room and shakily held up the test for my bestie to see, then burst into happy tears!
Her and I decided to get the doctors involved before I jumped the gun and told R. I had my scary experience from last June that was always on the back of my brain. So around 3:30 PM I gave the doctor a urine sample and impatiently waited to speak to him for the results. He called me into his office, and my excitement level began to rise, just for him to tell me my urine results were negative. No way? Again? He asked me why I thought I might be pregnant and I told him about the 1.5 positives I had this morning (.5 because I was still uncertain what the first test was). He gave me a script to have my blood drawn and HCG levels tested that way, and sent me on my way. Obviously, everything was closed by now. So I impatiently waiting until morning. Obviously, in the morning, I had to take another test (or three…) and like magic, they one by one began to show… plus sign… two pink lines… “yes+”. Holy crap! There’s no way that five tests could be giving me a false positive, right? (Yes, I was now considering the first test a positive, though a faint one.) I got ready as fast as I could and ran off to the hospital to have my blood drawn. Now that that’s been done, I have to wait 24 hours for my results. Can I keep it from R that long? Probably not… so bestie and I went and bought Karma a new collar and tag engraved with “Big Sister est. Jan. 2018”, E a “World’s Best Bro” shirt, and a onesie set with the cutest clip on bear soother clip, and threw it all in a bag with the pregnancy test and a “with deepest sympathies” card as a joke for R. Obviously, he was going to need some sympathy with my attitude over the next 8 months! But this is me, and I can’t wait for anything, so when R told me he was going to be home from work until late, I sent him a photo of the clothes and Facetime’d him. When he answered, he hadn’t seen the picture yet, and I sent him off to check his messages. He came back on with the biggest, goofiest grin on his face. We were going to be parents! (Again, in his case.)
The next morning, Monday morning, I woke up for work, and took two more tests. Both positive. However, when I stood up, I noticed blood. It was super pale, but it had me nervous. As the morning went on, the spotting got slightly darker and pinker, and by the time I got to the doctor I was a bundle of nerves. He walked into the office and prepared to give me my weekly vitamin shot, and I told him that I wanted him to check my test results first, so he pulled them up and showed me the screen. “Congratulations!” he said, “You’re pregnant! Low HCG though. Only 35, so it must be early. That’s why the urine test didn’t pick it up.” Again, I cried I was so happy, but I was still nervous. Was I losing it again? He assured me that some spotting was normal, to watch for bright red and cramping, and booked me in with the prenatal doctor for week ten. In my mind, I was so relieved. Why would he book me with a prenatal doctor so far in advance if he thought I was going to lose it? By the time I left the doctor, and got back to work, I had even stopped spotting. I finally felt confident, and so very happy! We were finally going to have our baby! Yay!!!!!
When a Fur Mama Meets Motherhood 
