10•31•22

One test sat in the trash, inconclusive, because it turns out, your hands can shake so bad that you do mess up a pregnancy test. The last test sat on the counter while the timer counted down.
Six months of trying and waiting and negative tests. Any period of time can feel long when you're waiting. Six months or three minutes.
Neither one of us thought this time would be the time. We thought the exhaustion was from teaching 5th graders on Halloween, a feat in itself, but I spent three days trying to get past the feeling that I should take a test just in case. A few minutes to confirm that nothing was different and then onto our movie night without having to wonder anymore.
The timer went off. I stood there staring at a small faint plus sign until he came in to see what was taking so long. Popcorn was left in a pot on the stove. A quick run through Walmart, people buying last minute Halloween candy. A two pack pregnancy tests, one with the words to make 100% sure and a bottle of sparkling cider.
Two tests later, I was dissolving in happy tears, he was hugging me and pouring the sparkling cider. We talked about how much was about to change. We watched a movie and ate our popcorn, and laid in bed dreaming of who that baby would be.
One year later, our little pumpkin is here: smiley and giggly and oh so loved.

So much can change in the course of a year.