Three of the four positive pregnancy tests I’ve taken in my life have been in the bathroom at work. Always in the same stall. This has nothing to do with anything except that I feel […]
Three of the four positive pregnancy tests I’ve taken in my life have been in the bathroom at work. Always in the same stall. This has nothing to do with anything except that I feel as though it helps to illustrate the differences between a first and subsequent pregnancy. Like for the first pregnancy I was all heartfelt and thoughtful in delivering the news to my husband that we were going to become parents. After that, well, I started taking pregnancy tests in the bathroom at work, for one, and also, my delivery of the news may have been slightly less warm and fuzzy. Not that the news itself was any less exciting; that’s not what I mean at all—it’s just that I’m lazy and tired and apparently only have enough emotion to pull off one cutesy announcement.
My first pregnancy was in 2009, back in the olden days, before I had an iPhone. My husband had always said that he wanted to get a video camera when we had a baby, so we could, you know, record it’s every move and whatnot. So after I took the positive pregnancy test (the one and only that I took in the privacy of my own home), I ran out to the store and bought a video camera. I carefully wrapped it and was so excited for my husband to open it. I couldn’t wait to watch him open it—confused at first as to why on earth I was giving him a video camera on a random Tuesday afternoon. But then he put two and two together! It was so much fun to surprise him with this wonderful news, and I was pretty darn proud of myself for the way in which I did it. It was clever. It was creative. It wasn’t something I had to steal off Pinterest … and it was a smashing success!
My second pregnancy was in 2010, when I began the trend of taking pregnancy tests at work. As classy people do. This pregnancy came as a bit of a surprise (OK, as a complete and total surprise), so I spent the afternoon at work, crying in my office, completely convinced that when I broke the news to my husband, he would file for divorce. I like to be as realistic and rational as possible in all situations. Or not. Whatever. I didn’t have a nifty surprise way of telling him. Instead, I came home from work and just sort of spat it out at him as he was sitting on the couch. Then I went in the bedroom and cried. Because, like I said, I like to keep it together. My husband did not file for divorce, which is how we came to pregnancy No. 3.
I told my husband about my third pregnancy (test obviously taken in the bathroom at work) via email, I’m pretty sure. It said something to the effect of: “You can buy beer on your way home tonight, but I can’t drink any of it.” You can see we’re headed on a downward trend of well thought out and meaningful pregnancy announcements.
I think my presentation of pregnancy No. 4 really takes the cake though. My husband was home, working on the broken sprinkler system. I was at work. I found myself in that old, familiar bathroom stall (which, by the way, I feel like should either be condemned or I should have a plaque in my honor on the door) holding on to a positive pregnancy test (again).
I went back to my office and texted my husband to ask what he was doing. He replied with a picture of the sprinkler manifold and asked, “Why? What needs to be done?” And me, being completely awesome, replied with nothing but a picture of the positive pregnancy test. There was no thoughtful gift, no subtle hints. I didn’t even use an emoji or words to describe the news. Nope. I just dropped that positive pregnancy test bomb right on him.
I’ve never been overly sentimental. Things (and people) that are overly sentimental, activate my gag reflex pretty quickly. So while I know there are oodles of romantic, heartfelt and thoughtful ways to announce you’re pregnant to your husband, I think a good old fashioned (because eventually texts will be old fashioned) photo text bomb gets the job done just fine.