We went to Portland, OR one weekend for Valentine’s Day. We weren’t even in an actual relationship at the time. In fact, we’d been on a break for about a year and a half. This was what we refer to as “the in-between time”. We didn’t even live in the same country. He is from Vancouver, Canada and I am from Seattle, WA. I came to live in Vancouver with him for a short time (in the before time) and when things didn’t work out, I went home. So as any smart and self-respecting people would do, we saw each other from time to time on weekends. I always promised myself it was the end and I’d never see him again. I even had a serious boyfriend for a few months. Then I spent The Saddest Christmas Ever with this drag of a guy who gave me a folded up $50 bill and told me to go pay a bill (as my gift). I had been laid off a couple of weeks before so I guess this was, in his mind, a loving a practical gesture. I felt terrible. My boyfriend was clearly a jackass, I had no job and my family had moved away to another city and I was very lonely. When my in-between love, Aaron asked me a few days later how my Christmas was, I cried. The next day, he showed up at my house with presents and took me to lunch. I came back up to Vancouver for a few days and completely forgot about the douchebag I was dating back home. When we went out a few days later, there was the stupidest argument ever, which sealed the deal. I was out of there. The next few weekends were spent with Aaron. He would come down and life was fun again. So of course when Valentine’s day in 2009 fell on a weekend, we opted to drive to Portland and had an amazing weekend of fun and adventure, not to mention drinking and lots of sex. Funny… when you have lots of sex, you open yourself up to a lot of things. Pregnancy for example.
A few weeks went by and there was no period. You know, same old story. I peed on a stick and nothing happened so I thought we were ok. A couple of weeks later, I was at work and stepped out for a morning coffee/cigarette break and found myself wanting to vomit. I couldn’t consume caffeine or nicotine properly so something was obviously up. I mentioned this to a few of my coworkers who happened to be friends by this time and they all said the same thing.
“Go home at lunch and take a pregnancy test.”
That’s about the dumbest advice ever so of course, I took it. I like to cause myself as much stress and chaos as possible or I don’t really feel as though I’m living life to the fullest. So, I did as I was told. And guess what? There they were… 2 pink lines. The 2 pink lines that distracted me from doing my work for the entire rest of the day. I refused to believe this was happening. I was taking birth control pills and Aaron and I only saw each other on the weekends. This was a fluke. I needed a second opinion. So I bought 2 more tests and went to Planned Parenthood for one of their tests. A total of 4 positive pregnancy tests. The shock and disbelief turned into blame. This was clearly HIS fault. So while my egg was being all sparkly and neat and tidy, his high-powered rocket sperm just waltzed right in like it owned the place.