When Zohrhubby and I first got married, we lived in a tiny efficiency apartment in the Garden District. It cost us $90 a month, (with utilities!) and had everything we needed (except a door to the bathroom). Then, several months later, we found out that I was preggers. At that time, he was running a bar and I was a DJ in that bar. We slept until 2:00 p.m. everyday, he went to work at 4:00 or so, then I’d pick up something to eat and meet him there at 7:00 and hang out until it was time to start playing music.
One such evening, a little voice told me something was amiss, so I stopped by Eckerd’s Drug store on my way to McDonald’s, and picked up a pregnancy test. Being only 20, I was slightly embarrassed by this purchase, so I made sure no one I knew was in the store when I hurriedly checked out. I made my order at McDonald’s, then went into the bathroom and peed on the stick. I waited the requisite 2 minutes, and all was clear. I wrapped the test in some toilet paper and shoved it in my pocket. The night was a normal run…we worked until 2, closed down the bar, left at 3, stopped by the grocery store and picked up some steaks and (more) beer and went home to our little apartment to watch CNN. Bedtime was around 4:30 a.m. The next morning, (aka 2:00 p.m.) while ZH was in the shower, I picked up my jeans off the floor and the little stick pee pee test fell out. I glanced at it for a moment (for no reason at all) and saw that the one little line had curiously turned into two. I looked away, shook my head, and looked at it again. WHAT THE HELL? Surely there was some problem here. I hadn’t kept the box, so I didn’t know for sure what this meant. But I was almost positive that one line meant no fetus and two lines meant there was a fetus. (At this point in my life, I was literally thinking “fetus” in the terms of “parasite”, I am sad to admit.) I got totally freaked out. I sat there is a stupor until ZH got out of the shower and walked into the room (through the doorless entry way).
He asked me what was wrong, as I was obviously stunned. I told him about what had happened the night before, for the first time. I hadn’t bothered to tell him before because my paranoia had not been worth mentioning. Now, however, my confusion needed some assistance, because surely this thing was wrong. I couldn’t be pregnant. I was on the pill, after all. I argued this point with ZH. He reminded me, then, that a couple of months ago I had taken antibiotics for a while for a sore throat or something. I had also heard that this makes the pill ineffective, but never considered it at the time.
We jetted over to the same store, first to read the box for the test that I had originally used. It advised that you could read your results after two minutes, but that it might take up to 10 minutes to fully complete, but to ignore results that occurred after that time. Damn! That didn’t help a bit. I had no idea if the magic pee pee stick had changed from one line to two between the 2 minutes and 15 minutes, or if it had changed while I was DJing at 1:00 a.m.
We bought another test. We ran back home to do it. We covered the stick up with some toilet paper and waited 5 minutes. Two bright pink lines formed under the cover of the toilet paper. But when we saw this, we decided that it wasn’t a good idea to buy the same brand that I had used the night before. So we went back to the store, and bought a different brand. This time we opted for the “two test” pack for good measure.
I spent the next hour drinking a big gulp to make myself pee again. The the next two tests were commenced. We figured that using the same urine sample on two tests was the way to go. (I’m not sure why, except I can attest that at that time, we were both huge dumbasses.)
Once I became convinced that the tests were all right, I spent the next few days wallowing around in self-pity, stunned and amazed at the thought that I would survive being a host for a parasite growing inside of me. Eventually, though, probably around the time of the second ultrasound, when I could see that it was actually a baby, it began to sink in that this was more than a mere biological nightmarish occurrence that I had to endure, but that we would soon be parents, Zohrdumbass and I. And I was scared out of my MIND.
And rightly so. Our lives changed so dramatically and over the next year, that we were barely noticeable as ourselves to each other and those who knew us. We had to move into a larger place, stop working at a bar, and become adults. I was only 20. ZH was 25. It was a rude awakening, to say the least.
So, there you have it. When I became a mother, I had no experience or desire to do anything of the sort. ZH and I had very little time to develop a relationship as a married couple, and the time we did have we spent away with wild abandon. Considering the start that we had, and the rocky times that were to come, I think it’s pretty amazing that we are still together. We celebrated 17 years together this past weekend. And I’m the first one who will tell you that they weren’t all joyous happy years, either. Some of them were downright awful. But we’ve hung in there, and have four beautiful children to show for it.
Happy Anniversary Zohrdumbass! Love you. 🙂