I panicked. I tried to take a couple of deep breaths. I panicked again. Trying to act normal, I made coffee, but spilled it all over the kitchen counter. How was I going to tell him? Was I even going to tell him?
We hadn’t even become official yet. We liked each other but it was just something fun we had been trying out. Questions on questions sped through my mind. Would he freak out? Would he leave me to figure this out all on my own? I didn’t want to think about it. I decided to leave him sleeping, I’d tell him once I was sure.
I walked several blocks to the nearest drugstore, scanning the vicinity for anyone that might recognize me. I was so anxious and scared that it took me a couple of minutes to work up the courage to walk inside. I quickly found the “Family Planning” section and I swear I could feel my heartbeat in my head as I stared blankly at the different options before me.
I grabbed the cheapest 2-pack; I wanted to be sure. I walked to the cashier too quickly and I didn’t make eye contact with anyone. I cringed when I saw the 8-person line-up. Did these people think I was a whore?
I shoved the box under my arm and began Googling “Pregnancy Symptoms” on my phone—nothing I hadn’t heard already. When it was my turn to check out, I fumbled the box and it fell on the floor behind the cashier. My heart was beating too loud in my ears to hear what the clerk was saying. I swiped my debit card, shoved the tests in my purse and got the hell out of there.
During the walk home, I considered abortions, adoptions, being pregnant, raising a child, baby names, getting fat, outgrowing all my clothes, and then the circle began again. There’s no way I was parent material.
When I walked into my apartment, I saw he was still in bed. Had he even noticed that I was gone? At that point I didn’t care. I walked into the bathroom and locked the door. I read the directions on the back of the box at least 12 times before I put the stick between my legs.
I swear those were the longest three minutes of my life. Abortions, giving birth, babies born with fetal alcohol syndrome—I was panicking
When that little blue minus sign came into view on the stick, a tidal wave of relief rushed over me… I wasn’t pregnant.
I’ve been obsessively careful with my birth control ever since.
Have you ever thought you might be pregnant? What would you do if you had a pregnancy scare? Tell me in the comments!