I had a doctor’s appointment, and when the unlucky thirteen tubes of blood he sent away for tests were returned, it was decided that I had a certain syndrome that would prevent me from having more children. Options like IFV, and various other fertility treatments would probably work, but there would be no easy, old fashioned baby making for me.

Of course, people assured me that I was lucky to have the two I have, and I am. That doesn’t mean I had to be happy about being done. If I am going to be done having children, I’d like to do it on my own terms.

The thing that really got my goat was that I was having pregnancy symptoms! Great, I thought, you’re so disappointed you’re psyching yourself out and exaggerating every little pms symptom. This is pathetic.

Two weeks later the symptoms were still there, and driving me crazy because I couldn’t believe them. To top it off, I was late. Again. This was two-thirds of the reason behind the initial doctor’s visit to begin with, and here it was, mocking me with yet another fake pregnancy symptom.

I was bloated and late, breaking out like a teenager, and my cups were running over by about a size and a half. Now, anyone can be bloated and gassy. It is a symptom of many things. Being late, well, that’s been explained to me in many scientific terms. And a sudden bout of acne, well, it happens. These symptoms were liars. LIARS! However, the boobs don’t lie. Breasts are very truthful, and after puberty there is only one really legitimate excuse for rapidly jumping cup sizes and being so sore you can hug anyone. Pregnant boobs announce themselves with a bullhorn, perky, loud and honest.

I was so ticked off. How dare I have all these symptoms and not have it be possible? That’s just rude. I told Chris I would go in for a blood test, another futile disappointment on the horizon, another round of getting my hopes up when I know better. Then, I got so miffed I told Chris to just pick me up a home pregnancy test so I could suffer my disappointment in the privacy of my own bathroom.

I bitterly unwrapped the test, did my thing, and expected to set it down and wait. I didn’t even get to set it down. It was the fastest positive pregnancy result I have ever seen in my life, and I sat there, entirely gobsmacked, almost disbelieving.

Every other pregnancy I thought up some cute way to let Chris in on the big secret. This time I just walked up to him, test in shaking hands, goofy grin on my face. After asking me if I was serious about ten times, he finally understood I wasn’t joking. That was a really positive test.

I’m pregnant! Whoa!

And I’m thrilled.