About ten days before the home pregnancy test yielded two pink lines instead of one, I had a vague sense of being pregnant. Nothing physical, nothing scientific, just a mild case of intuitive insight. It happened when I went to the dentist and they asked if I was pregnant before doing Xrays. I told them it was possible--something I've had to do before at a doctor's visit and felt absolutely ridiculous doing because the chances were slim, but the scientist in me knew it was possible so I couldn't say no. But it was different this time when they opted not to do the Xrays until I knew for sure that I wasn't. I didn't feel ridiculous. I didn't think much of it at the time, except to file the information away in the "that's interesting" stash in my brain. By the end of the next week, I noticed that I had some mild nausea every morning at about 10. Nothing that a couple of Tums or just a quick bite to eat couldn't fix. Again, it went to the "that's interesting" pile. Then I was brainstorming some writing ideas the following Monday and on a whim decided to take a home pregnancy test. (Yes, not your average whim, but I've never claimed to be average. Or even sane.)
It was an interesting moment when Mark and I saw that positive test. Joy, excitement, peace. All bundled together to make for one of the most amazing feelings I've ever experienced. No doubt. No panic. Nothing negative. Over the course of the next few hours (in which Mark made me take two more tests before we let ourselves get too happy) I was in awe of the sense of focus that pumped through me. I knew everything was going to be fine, that this was right, that this was supposed to be happening. I knew. The only other time I've felt that way was when Mark and I decided to get married. That's not to say that I was so blinded by joy that I couldn't think rationally and consider the challenges of such a life-changing event. Instead, I realized that there would be challenges, and that we would survive them.
Since that Monday night, I've had fears and doubts and negative moments. Kinda hard not to when your body is dealing with an onlsaught of new chemicals and physical changes. But every time those swings start, I give myself a moment to remember how I felt when I first found out I was pregnant, and it takes the edge off.
Now, if only I could have such a focusing, intuitive moment regarding my writing, I'd be set.