After searching for several months for a potential property on which to build our dream home, we came to the conclusion that there was nothing of the sort, so we would have to look for an existing home. We wanted to move up the north shore a little, but not too far from downtown.
The house search was a great distraction for me. Despite the fun of trying to conceive, month after month left me with a negative pregnancy test and a discouraged heart. Harry was so sweet, telling me not to worry and that we didn't even have to consider fertility testing until it had been over a year.
With the new parameters of our search, it didn't take us long to find an existing property that we both loved, and agreed it could be our dream house. It was perfect for my rustic and shabby chic tastes while it also had a modern feel to it. It felt like it was made just for us, a rare gem indeed. We found it at the perfect time before the market really picked up. It was just over ten miles north of downtown, and although that still meant a long commute, we decided it was worth it to own this once-in-a-lifetime property and to raise our children there. If we ever had children. It was a huge, airy, two-story home situated right on the shore of Lake Michigan. We would have a private swath of beach to ourselves, and then a public beach neighbored ours, separated by the breakwater so random people wouldn't wander onto our property. The yard was surrounding with a locking gate so there would be no worries about children venturing onto the beach without supervision.
The house also had plenty of room for entertaining, which we did much more frequently now. I couldn't wait to move to the new place to expand our space exponentially, with the hopes of having guests visit often.
It was late January and we just signed on the house. It was an exciting time, but on the way home, I was ornery, and I couldn't figure out why. We were heading into the doldrums of winter and I had never been so tired in my life. Work was always exhausting, but this was a new level of fatigue I'd never known. Maybe I was becoming depressed about the baby situation. When we got home, instead of lashing out at me for my crabby behavior, Harry simply took me in his arms and held me.
Finally, he said, "What's wrong, baby? I thought you'd be happy about our new house?"
I smiled weakly and looked up at him. "I'm so happy, Harry. I just don't know what's wrong with me. I'm so tired, I feel like I can't even function. Can I just take the whole month of February off?"
"The hospital may not like that," he said with a little chuckle. "Tell you what. Why don't you get your pajamas on and I'll go out and get us something for dinner so we don't have to cook. You tell me what you're in the mood for - anything! It can be the most decadent, heart-attack-inducing junk and I will get it for you, just because I love you and want to cheer you up."
"You are a fucking Superman, you know that?" I said with a little sigh and a grateful smile. "Honestly, pasta sounds good, like some gooey lasagna. Or, I know, that mac and cheese from that one little restaurant we like. I'm craving cheese like crazy. And then something - anything - chocolate."
"Anything for you, baby," he said, getting his coat on again and heading out the door.
I went into the bedroom and put on my warm flannel pajamas and slippers. Then I laid on the couch and turned on Lifetime, but I fell asleep before I could even see what was on.
Harry returned about an hour later, loaded with all the gooey foods I had ordered. But before he dished up our plates, he said, "I got something else, too." He sat next to me and held out a bag from Rite Aid. I took it and pulled out a pregnancy test.
My shoulders drooped. "I'm not in the mood right now, Harry. I can't handle another disappointment."
"Please, do it for me, Ellie. It's been six weeks since your last period."
I shook my head and smiled in defeat. "It's so weird that you know that. But I guess I've been a little obsessed, haven't I?"
"A little," he shrugged. "You'll never know until you try."
"But if it's negative, it'll spoil the whole night and I already feel like shit. There will be no cheering me up, not even with the best mac and cheese on the planet. Not to mention the best husband on the planet." Even so, I reluctantly followed him to the bathroom, and then I chased him out with a laugh, telling him, "I can do the first part by myself."
Just a minute later, after I had peed on the stick, which wasn't exactly the most graceful thing to do, I washed my hands and told Harry he could come back in. I didn't even bother to look at the test as I sat down on the closed toilet. "I hate this. Three minutes seems like an eternity when we do this."
"I don't think we have to wait three minutes," Harry said.
"Harry," I whined. "We have to do what the test says or it won't be accurate."
"No, baby," he said, and I could hear a hint of laughter in his voice. "We don't have to wait three minutes because I can already see two lines."
"What?" I jumped up and looked at the test to see for myself. Two dark pink lines showed up in the window. "Oh, my god!" I cried, now with happy tears forming in my eyes. "Oh, my god, Harry!"
He put the test down and took me in his arms. He already had tears streaming down his face. He kissed me repeatedly and then he finally said, with a tremor in his voice, "We're gonna have a baby!"