It was July 2013, mid to late July, we were getting packed to head out to Freeport to a beautiful beach house for the weekend. It was going to be our first ‘vacation’ in years, and our first getaway with Izzy. The Monday before we were set to head out, I got this nagging feeling that perhaps it was time for me to POAS. I have always been very regular, even after having Izzy, and here I was maybe one or two days late. I had my husband stop by the store and pick me up some pregnancy tests. Even before I took the test, I knew. Five minutes later, I had the confirmation. I was pregnant.
Now most people would be ecstatic to get a positive pregnancy test. They might start screaming, crying, leaping for joy. Hug and kiss their spouse or significant other, start telling the world, even. That my friends, was not my reaction. Not even close. I just sat there. I stared at the test, I told my husband, and I just sat there. I did not feel excitement. I did not feel joy. I did not feel butterflies in my stomach. I felt nothing. No. Wait. That is a lie. I did feel something. I felt disappointment that I wasn’t going to be able to enjoy a beer or two while at the beach.
We opted to have genetic testing done this time around. I opted to have it done. I figured not knowing would drive me crazy. Thankfully, the testing came back looking great and we found out we were having a little girl.
Again, you would have thought that feelings of joy, excitement, happiness, would all come. I thought they would, but they didn’t. I was relieved, and life continued. We were now approaching October, and Izzy’s first birthday. We were beyond busy.