Whoa, That Was Close!

So I keep track of my “crimson wave”, and by that I mean my period in case you didn't catch that, with a nice handy little app called FMC on my iPhone. It’s very simple with none of those extra “journal’s, temperature recording, or smiley’s” to use. I think those apps are going a little overboard. Seriously? A smiley?? I just want to know when aunt flow will grace me with her presence! I can also (really easily) place a dot on the days the hubs and I do the horizontal tango. Why do I do this? Well, because based on your “wave”, this app gives you some dates that tell you when you’re suppose to be the most fertile. aka “The best days to get knocked up”. The hubs and I haven't discussed when we’d like to have another child (if we even want another one) in a very long time, so I came to the conclusion that RIGHT NOW would not be a good time. This sucks for my husband because that means that on the week (dates boxed in green) that I’m supposedly ovulating, the man is not allowed anywhere near me. He’s not even allowed to look at me with any kind of sexual intentions, because it ain't happenin’.

So guess what I found out this past Sunday? I was FIVE days late. Yea, five freakin days! I hadn’t been paying too much attention to my calendar until I started feeling sick. Nauseated. So, I checked the app, and what do you know? I was late. Late, LATE, LATE! Ok, maybe that isn't really late to some people, but for me that’s a little too late, for comfort. I took a pregnancy test, and it took forever to give me a negative result. I checked the expiration date and realized it was expired. The information pamphlet said something along the lines of “This could lead to a false positive or negative reading.” Crap! By this point, I was a bit nervous. So, I told my husband. Yea, I’d pay money to see that face again. I told him that I felt he should be a nervous wreck right along with me, until I was able to go buy another pee stick.

This is the moment he picks to start talking about another baby. He tells me it’ll be okay and that I’ve been late before (the most was three days late, and that’s when I found out I was pregnant with our daughter). Then he proceeds to tell me that if I am pregnant, everything will be okay and Emery will enjoy having a younger sibling. Fast forward about thirty minutes of alone time in his man cave and he comes out with:

“Um, you can’t be pregnant. You have to finish school and we have to get a bigger house first!”

Exactly! He was so right, that I laughed. We can’t afford another baby right now. With school, our jobs, and the crappy place that we’re in right now, it would be a nightmare. And do you know what happens next? HE starts cleaning. LOL! The last time he put on gloves and gave the sink a good scrub down was after I told him I was pregnant the first time. I left to go buy a pregnancy test, and came home to a clean house. 

The test came back negative, which we were relieved about. Not because we don’t want another baby, just that right now would not be a good time. But, in a way I’m glad we went through this scare. We actually talked about plans for another baby. We’ve both decided it will be either during my last year of school, or after I graduate before we start trying. Our relationship hasn’t been perfect, and we still have some kinks to smooth through, but hey that’s life. Still, we both came to an understanding that we do want another child eventually. I’m sure if he or she is a surprise we’ll be fine with it, but we’d much rather the next one come on our terms.

Now if only this damn nausea would go away, everything would be peachy. And I guess me being late is just my cycle changing up, because aunt flow ended up arriving that same Sunday night. Phew! Crisis averted.