Bathroom baby 

I think I always pictured the day I would find out I was pregnant with my rainbow baby would be uber romantic. 

The day was anything BUT romantic. 

The following story is true. No Jimmy Johns employees were harmed in the writing of this blog. 
I woke up the morning of the 2nd feeling HANGRY. I made myself a protein shake at 8 am. That didn’t cut it. The hunger was servere. I was in need of a large cow, accompanied by A1 sauce. 

By 10 am without my knowledge, I was eating chips and salsa at the coffee table while the girls watched The Little Mermaid for the third time that morning. 

I was a total and complete bitch to my husband , and by 11 am I knew I was pregnant. 

We were supposed to leave for the beach at 12 pm, and I still needed to pack. 

” Honey, can you go get me pregnancy test so I can take it before me leave?”

” We will just grab one on the way. WAIT WHAT?! You’re late?”

” So then what where am I supposed to take the test babe? In the van?!”

” I don’t know … What do you do with it anyway? YOURE PREGNANT?”

” Probably. Fine. We will grab a test when we stop at Wal Mart, then I’ll take it when we stop for lunch.”

” Gross.”

” You’re gross. ”

————————–

  
I never go to Wal Mart, but when I do I am buying a pee stick. 

Standing beside the cashier in the small check out line, he scans the test.

” Are we hoping for another?!”

First of all who the hell asks that question? If you see a pregnancy test just don’t comment. 

That’s like scanning a pack of condoms and saying…

“Hoping to get lucky tonight? First date? She hot? You have an STD you’re trying to keep to yourself?”

We both looked at the cashier and said :

” We are happy either way.”

He smiled like the weirdo he is , and I stormed out of there on a mission to see if I was knocked up. Again. 

So we pull into the Jimmy Johns parking lot with tires screeching. 

” Babe, just go ahead and order, I’ve gotta go get gas.”

I order. Inside my purse is two pregnancy tests. The cashier wouldn’t stop being friendly. 

ENOUGH WITH THE CASHIERS TRYING TO BE MY LIFE LONG FRIENDS. 

I dashed to the restroom, opened the door and nodded my head. Yes, this place was clean enough to pee on a stick. I could do this here. 

I got the new cool kind of test that had a curved stick! That way you don’t pee on your hand. Women and the things we endure. Pregnant piss hands. 

I peed on the stick and not myself. I told myself I wouldn’t look for a least a minute, but we all know I watched the test develop like it held the rest of my life in it. 

And there it was. Positive as hell. 

My first reaction was to sob. I then started to jump up and down and shout a bit. A few THANK YOU JESUS’s came out. I had to pull myself together though. Subs were waiting. 

I dried my eyes , and tried to walk like a normal person out of the bathroom. Once that pregnancy test is positive you automatically act a fool. 

I reach the counter , make accidental eye contact with the dude. He smiles. I smile. 

Then the tears start coming out of my eyes like it’s their only job. I am suddenly a hormonal mess. 

A blob of estrogen. A flailing tampon. A floating ball of maxi pads. Everything emotional. 

” Have a great day ma’am!”

” Thanks, I just found out I’m having another baby!!”

(((((( tears . Diva cup tears)))))

((((( newborn scent on the mind )))
” In the restroom?”

SHUT IT CASHIER.  YOU ARE NOT A DOULA! 

you also might want to clean the top of the toilet paper holder . 

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