I went to my first ever appointment for this pregnancy today. The very nice nurse tells me, "We have a postive test here, but I suspect that you already knew that." I nod. I gag. I ask her for her garbage can. She goes to get a wet paper towel and drapes it across the back of my neck while I breath deep and gag over her garbage can. So that's it...the official result. Not a botched home test. I am really pregnant.
She sets me up with lots of written information after taking an extensive detail of my symptoms. I tell her I've been spotting pink for several days. She says that implantation bleeding shouldn't last more than a day, but it could also be nothing...or something.
I go home with a heavy heart. I can't be pregnant at this time in my life. But I am. Or, at least I was. Am I still? I'm really torn. I do another pee stick test, knowing that even if it's already over, the test will likely still turn positive simply because of the hormones. It still makes me feel better to see the little clock give way to the flashing PREGNANT. I nap while I wait for the kids to get home, and while I nap I pray to God that He will either allow me to emotionally commit to this pregnancy or keep me from bonding if it's not going to come to fruition.
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