As wand monkeys fly out of my butt
We planned for bad news rather well, what with all the practice. So we spent the day in public--running errands, eating lunch, buying distracting books for me to read while battling the expected depression of failure. I did not want to go home; did not want to be in a place where I could fall apart completely when the call came.
We had pulled off into an Emeryville parking lot, both of us feeling sleepy in the warm car, and had decided to nap for a few minutes when my phone buzzed. It was much too early to expect the results, but it was clearly from the clinic.
Jeff had agreed to be the one to take the call, and he was then supposed to hug me, tell me everything would be all right and drive me somewhere beautiful for an hour or so while I dealt with the first onslaught. He was then to take me home, make me a stiff drink and hold me till I'd cried myself to sleep. It was a good plan.
Instead, he jumped out of the car, phone in hand and closing the door behind him, and I was left to answer his own now-ringing phone. It was a client, and I tried not to sound like a panicked lunatic but couldn't breathe quite right and could only stammer. I put the man on hold. Jeff opened my door; I handed him his phone, he handed me mine, and said, "Talk to her."
I can't remember what exactly I heard, but it included the word "congratulations" and a number of 136. I think I cried and I know I thanked her six or seven times. I'm pretty sure I also told her that I didn't believe it, it wasn't possible, but thank you anyway. I do remember that she said, quite distinctly, that I was wrong--it was not only possible, it was true.
Jeff and I sat in that Emeryville parking lot for what seemed an eternity, just smiling and shaking our heads in disbelief. We had no idea what to do; we hadn't planned for success.
I am not a superstitious or spiritual person, but I can't help feeling that the support you all have shown me, and the positive thoughts and wishes, have made a difference in me, and maybe even in this outcome. It's been eighteen years since the last time I was pregnant, and I truly did not believe it could ever happen again, but your optimism and hopefulness were, I think, enough to counteract my own absolute certainty of failure.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart, which is full to overflowing with gratitude.