My Pregnancy Scare Saga: Part One


I’m at a certain age and place in my life where I thought the time had come and gone for bad decision making. You do enough stupid things that at some point, you are supposed to cross this imaginary line into something that looks suspiciously like adulthood. Once on the other side of this line, you can look back on all the youthful blunders you and people close to you have made and you learn from it, move forward.

As of last week, I was forced to admit that maybe I hadn’t come quite as far as I thought I had.

I had a pregnancy scare.

My period isn’t like clockwork, but it’s close enough that I know the part of the month in which it will fall. As March drew to a close, I looked at my calendar and realized that I hadn’t had my period when it was supposed to come, around the 12th.

At first, I didn’t think anything of it. Two weeks was a long time, but I had been stressed out from school and I wasn’t eating as well as I should have been. I also sit next to about four girls at work, so I assumed that we were syncing.

Every day that my period didn’t come, I felt the small lump of fear in my chest grow exponentially. I kept finding little things that made me worry, like the fact that my breasts were tender and that despite the fact that I wasn’t eating as much and getting a lot of exercise, I thought that I was gaining weight. I started to feel nauseous, and although part of myself knew that I was feeling this way because I was scared and I was almost looking for these telltale signs, they persisted.

Finally, I broke down and decided to buy a pregnancy test. I went to the grocery store closest to my house and found all the pregnancy tests, along with all of the lube, condoms, yeast infection creams, and douches locked in this cabinet of shame near the pharmacy.

I waited in line for about twenty minutes for someone at the customer service desk to unlock the cabinet of shame and the while I was waiting there, I started to get…furious.

Part of me chalked it up to my pregnant mood swings and part of me felt very justified in my anger. Why the f*ck did they have to put the top ten most difficult things for people to buy in a grocery store in a locked cabinet? Isn’t it bad enough to have to stand in the pregnancy test aisle, compare prices, and then walk your purchase up to the front counter and weather the awkward stare from the barely post pubescent male ringing you up? I realize now that these things are put in the cabinet of shame to deter theft, but at the time, all I could figure was that I was being punished for slutty decisions.

[Stay tuned for Part 2…]

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