I zoom back and fly through the front door, partially stripping as I come in for a landing in the bathroom. I follow the instructions closely and then watch as the digital timer on the test starts ticking.
As I pull myself somewhat together, it occurs to me that through my pregnancy plight, I have lost all sense of patience, calmness and grace. And that monster is rearing its head more than ever in this very moment as I glare at the flashing timer.
I took several deep breaths and closed my eyes to pray (and plead). When I opened my eyes, that #$%! timer was still flashing. And then, BING! The clearly legible word PREGNANT appeared in the window of the test. I sat there quietly with the test in my hand for the longest time, just reveling in the sacred moment. I softly and deliberately uttered the words to myself that I had so longed to say. I am pregnant. I am pregnant. I am pregnant.
And then, test in hand, I ran screaming like a true crazy women to show my husband.