Curiosity killed it

After gleefully ending my very nonchalant previous entry about how loopy and downright psychotic I was for scheming a pregnancy in my mind, my good ol' friend I look forward to seeing approximately every 29 days decided to be a "no show" last week.

Yes, I just finished writing doting comments about missing the sheer innocence of my toddler boys who it seems only last Tuesday were cooing sweet nothings in my ears. But then panic began to stir inside and I began to wonder if I really was, indeed, pregnant.

The day I came to this realization, was also the day that for the first time in a very long overdue time Jason and I were making a night of hanging out with friends and a few, if not many, adult beverages without the slightest sense of fear that the more intoxication and time that went by the wayside the closer we were to toddlers banging on their cribs at 7:30am. I am still cringing as I think of the glorious hangover headache that followed that evening of fun. However, it was Good Friday, and as I mentioned I vividly remember the positive pregnancy test I took on that very same day two years ago when Peyton was just as little as a gummi bear.

I imagined this as God's little plot against me: never speak too soon, Steph. Damn you, irony! Off I went to kill my curiosity like a shamed teenager holding a pregnancy test amid the horrid grocery store check out lines. I raced home and took the first of four tests [bearing in mind I knew I was going to do this all over again to make sure]. When only one stunning line appeared I was ready to bound out of the bathroom doing cartwheels. So the plans went on as usual and we indulged in a night of fun, and discovered how old we really were when 10:00pm began to feel like we were going to hear the last call bell toll in the bar.

One hangover later, and a few days passed and my friend still did not appear. Infuriated by this I continued to feel completely wiped out, and I felt the urgency to be sick at a moment's notice... not that my sharade with Kettle One had anything to do with it. By all accounts I was still convinced I was pregnant, so I took another test which again was negative.

Even with two negative tests, worry continued to settle in my mind. It was no longer an ideal I wanted as I knew it was just not feasible for this to happen. We are a family of five. We have three bedrooms. Two toddler boys plus another baby on the way- in one room? I can think of more entertaining ways to torture myself than considering that. At this point we are a two car family driving with three in one, two in the other because we cannot fit all of us together in one sedan. How would I get anywhere with three astronimcally large infant seats? I had visions of pushing a triple stroller all over town to get anything done. Worse yet, staying home literally every minute of the day for lack of any transportation. It sounds, admittedly, presumptuous to write that as I know there are families in just that predicament. Like, right now. And it's a helpless feeling in all seriousness.

Another day later, I woke up to find remnants of Jason's breakfast scattered among the kitchen. He left a mess from where he packed his lunch, used silverware remained unwashed, and the milk was left out, which sounds like no big deal but he has a breakdown if the milk sits out unused for more than two seconds and hunts for the perpetrator immediately. He called a few minutes later and said, "I have it all figured out."

"Eh what?"

"I decided that if you're pregnant, we'll just covert the family room back to a bedroom, put up some new walls, buy two door frames-one for the hallway and one by the kitchen, toss the furniture in storage, put the TV in the basement and keep the baby in that room until Justine goes to college. It'll work out just fine. I took the room measurements and have everything with me in school. I'm good now."

Well that settles that, I thought. Relieved that at least we would have somewhere to put this unnamed child besides the attic, I let the worry go.

It would have been fine. Really. A place to put a crib was a biggie. The car thing? It would have worked out. Food?! Heck we're growing our own veggies this summer, green thumb style, so at the very least we would have rabbit food for this baby en route.

Once we had our "ah hah!" moment, my friend showed up within a few hours knocking loud and clear. And just like that, we remained once more a family of five.

So with that said, motherhood to infants is officially one chapter that is closed for me. But hey, I like my family room as it is, so I suppose that isn't necessarily a bad thing.