Saturday evening I started feeling off. I couldn't really pipoint what was wrong, but I just wasn't feeling great. After trying to fall asleep till almost 2 A.M., I gave in to the Coke induced insomnia and got up for a few hours. While I was playing around on the internet (looking up things like "Coco, Ice T's wife" on Wikipedia), I realized there was something familiar about the way I was feeling. I had felt this way before. Twice before, actually. I quickly brushed these thoughts out of my head, took some Benadryl, and crawled back into bed.

On Sunday morning, I woke up (late! thankful to Hubby for getting up with the girls) and noticed that I was still not feeling well. We went to church together as a family and on the way home I swung by the drugstore. I ran in and out without Hubby even asking what I had purchased.

While Lindsay was getting Murphy lunch, I slipped into the bathroom to take this:

That's right; it's a pregnancy test...

I thought I my eyes must be deceiving me when I saw this:

In case you think your eyes are deceiving you,

yes, that's a + sign. 

I went running to the dining room and shoved the stick in my husband's face shouting, "What do you see? WHAT DO YOU SEE? Do you see a plus? IS THAT A PLUS?" Frantic. I was frantic. Realizing I had two more tests from the same box, I ran back to the bathroom and took the other two.

Because you can't tell from the pic,

let me interpret: Positive. Positive. Positive. 

At this point, I went completely ballistic and asked ordered Hubby to head back to the store and pick up more tests, 'those expensive tests that say PREGNANT or NOT PREGNANT' in nice, plain letters. While he was gone for what felt like two weeks, I began to really think about what was going on. I love my children. I love all children. I love the idea of having a large family. I love the idea of actually being pregnant again. I did not, however, like anything about the prospect of having three children under the age of three. My other two pregnancies were planned, very planned. The whole idea of being pregnant on accident has always baffled me. But still, here I was, standing in the middle of my backyard, tilting the sticks back and forth in the sun, and refraining from using profanity in from of my children. Lindsay returned with opened box and unwrapped text in hand, and I quickly took care of business. Three more times.

And, each of these super fancy, digital tests read: NOT PREGNANT. Huh? Hadn't I always heard that you can't get a false positive? Timing wise, it made no sense that any test would not show up positive if indeed I was pregnant. So, after telling Lindsay that I needed to use 'those tests I used when I found out I was pregnant the first two times because I know they're right,' I headed to the store, came home, and immediately took these:

And they were both negative. Hmmmmm.... I tried to put the whole thing out of my mind and laid down to rest for a few minutes. Rest?!?! What was I thinking? Who could rest at a time like this? So, I called a local urgent care to get an 'expert' opinion on what was going on. The nurse I spoke with told me that it was virtually impossible to get a false positive and that I had probably just diluted my urine by drinking excess water to take more tests. She told me to take a test first thing the next morning. 

After talking to her, I tried to move on with the evening as normally as possible. On our way home from small group that night, I ran by the store, again, and picked up another box of tests. (And, yes, we've spent well over $100 on pregnancy tests at this point.) After we got the girls in bed, I got antsy again and decided that I couldn't wait till morning to take another test.

If you're keeping track, 

that's six negative and three positive.

The moment I opened my eyes the next morning, I took another test:

I was completely dumbfounded by the three positive tests from the day before. I gave my OB a call to get her take on it. I felt sure she would tell me that the 7 negative tests trumped the 3 positive ones. (Makes sense, right?) Instead, she told me that there was no way to be sure and that I needed to go have a blood test done to get a definitive result. 

I had my blood drawn at about 11:30 AM Monday morning and then began the waiting game. (tick tock) During this period, my emotions ranged from anxiety to fear to eager anticipation. (tick tock) I began to think more logistically in terms of what a positive result would mean for our family. (tick tock) We'd need a new car, after all. (tick tock) At 4:35 PM Tuesday, I got the phone call from the doctor with the test results... I AM NOT PREGNANT! She was as baffled by the positive tests as I had been and said that I must have gotten a 'faulty box.' 

Curious as to what a 'faulty box' looks like?

Note it boasts being over 99% accurate!

So, here I sit, 48 hours after that call: happy with the results yet feeling more and more sure that our family may not be quite complete. When we'll be adding another bambino to our brood, I can't say; but I do know what pregnancy test I won't be turning to when that time comes!

If You Give a Mommy a Minute

One of my favorite parts of any day is sharing bedtime snuggles and stories with my girls. We've made stories a part of the bedtime routine since Carter was a babe, and Murphy girl has just started joining in on the fun. Some of my favorite children's books are the If You Give a... series by Laura Numeroff. Pookie can finish every line, and I can totally relate to these poor ADD-ridden animals' frequent distractibility!

Please enjoy my homage to mommies everywhere...

If you give a mommy a minute, she'll decide that she should use it to clean up dog poop.
When she goes to get a trash bag for the poop collecting, she'll discover that the battery packages are taking up too much space in the drawer, so she'll repackage the batteries into ziplock baggies.
As she's putting up the batteries, she'll remember that the flashlight needs new batteries; so she'll begin searching for it.
While she's looking for the flashlight, she'll come across a coupon for a kid's clothing website and realize that she needs to order some clothes before the coupon expires.
When she's browsing the clothing selection, she'll wonder if her little princess has a skirt to match the Patchwork Applique T-shirt, in Bubblegum, with Chicken. So, she'll go into her daughter's room to evaluate summer skirt options.

When looking through the closet, she'll realize that she's not sure what still fits her growing girl. So, she'll beg her three year old to participate in a fashion show.
When the fashion show is complete, she will go into the kitchen and get her angel three gumdrops as a treat for trying on the clothes without any too much whining.
While in the kitchen, she will notice that pancakes from breakfast are still on her daughter's tray, and she'll begin to clean.
As she's scrubbing the sticky, syrupy, mess, she'll remember that she has actually not eaten a bite of food all day; so she'll begin rummaging through the pantry and quickly scarf down a handful of cheddar bunnies and two Double-Stuffed Oreos.

When she's finished eating her "lunch," she will realize that she is parched as she has not had a drop of any non-caffeinated beverage in three days. She'll quickly gulp an entire bottle of Dasani water.
After drinking the water, she'll realize that she has not used the restroom since 3 AM when she was awakened by the dogs' barking. She'll sneak past her daughter, who is now engrossed in trying to scrape the gumdrops from her molars, and dash to the bathroom.
During her precious alone time, she'll glance at the shower and remember that some grown-ups actually take showers every day; so she decides to take one.
When she finishes up her luxurious four minute shower, she'll hear her baby whimpering on the monitor and realize that nap time is over a bit early today.
She'll quickly towel dry herself, slick her hair back in a wet pony tail, throw on some semi-clean clothes from the closet floor, and run upstairs lest the soft crying turns to wailing.
When she gets upstairs to pick up her littlest love, she'll discover that the nap time was cut short because of a ginormous poop, and she'll begin to change her darling's diaper.
As she wipes the poop from between her daughter's shoulder blades, she'll be reminded of the dog poop that is still lying in the hot sun of the backyard.
And, chances are, if she remembers the dog poop, she'll probably need to find a trash bag to put it in...

It's kind of sad that my little ditty both begins and ends with poop, but I feel sure that most any mommy out there can relate. Many days do begin and end with poop, whether literal or figurative. This Mommy business may not be the most glamorous job in the world (or on this block), but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Happy Mother's Day!