As I go through the now so-very-familiar ritual of peeing on a stick, I feel a little nauseous. Sick at the repetitive motions I have come to know so well, that have so many times resulted in a disappointing outcome.
I slowly pull the test into view and watch the liquid travel past the test line (which is nonreactive) to the control line that immediately turns bright magenta. This control line has long been a source of great contempt for me. I can't imagine anyone ever getting a positive test line THAT dark. I'm convinced manufacturers explicitly make the control lines on these tests as dark as possible to taunt women like me who are dealing with infertility. Each time your test line indicates negative, that damn dark magenta control line is right in your face just screaming "FAILED". I comfort myself with the reminder that it's really too early to detect hCG anyway, and I set the timer for three minutes, as instructed on the test insert.
And I waited. And I watched. And I prayed.
And then, as if I had willed it there, an oh-so-faint line appeared. I had to kind of squint to see it (and pinch myself to believe it). I knew it wasn't an evaporation line which is grey and can sometimes be seen on tests that have dried, sadistically insinuating a positive. No, this test line was magenta (well, maybe more of a light pink) in all its ghostly glory. I called my husband to get his opinion and he agreed I wasn't imagining it this time. We could see the barely-there line in the regular light of our bathroom. We could see it holding it under a lamp. We could see it shining a flashlight on it. We could see it in the sunlight in our backyard. There was definitely something there. So, I pulled out my arsenal of pregnancy tests and drank a big glass of water, hoping to see more of my very own magenta lines.