Pregnant in Japan: denial and the test

That ain't no etch-a-sketch.  This is one doodle that can't be undid, homeskillet. 

--from the movie Juno

"That smell is going to make me sick, " I nonchalantly commented to my running partner as we jogged our route around the island.  Inquisitively she looked at me and asked, "Are you pregnant?"  I let out a nice laugh thinking about my  just turned 12 month old little boy.  How could I be pregnant when I still have a baby?  It was just those disgusting odors from the surrounding plants that were getting to me.  That's all. 

Within a couple of days, extreme hip pain led to a running hiatus.  I remarked numerous times that the last time my hip hurt so badly was during pregnancy.  Friends responded with more inquisitive looks, while I responded with nervous laughter. 

That nagging feeling of the possibility started to chisel through my denial and I finally headed off to what we expats call  "Wal-greens" to pick up a pregnancy test.   Finding the test was relatively simple.  It was not a brand I recognized, but the packaging offered enough clues as to what it was.  My only concern was that I was buying an ovulation kit rather than a pregnancy test.  I came home, took the test, and sat it on the bathroom counter.  I eventually wandered back into the bathroom to take a look. 

What stared back at me may as well have been in Japanese given my response.  There were 2 very, very faint lines.   The lines were so faint in fact, I convinced myself the test was defective and shoved it into a drawer.  I mentioned the faint lines to a few friends via email, and I think I mentioned it in passing to my husband, but seriously my head was in the clouds.  I acted like that pee stick shoved in the drawer was a leprechaun, myth not to be taking as reality.  

At the urging of my screaming hip, I planned a trip to the orthopedist.  In preparation, I set out to determine whether or not I was really pregnant. Actually, I should say I set out to determine I was not pregnant, because OF COURSE I was not pregnant.   I headed back to Wal-greens. I felt like a teenager terrified of running into one of my many neighbors.  I felt silly pushing a baby and sheepishly purchasing a pregnant test (actually 2 boxes with 2 tests in each).  I am not sure why I was so self-conscious.  

I repeated the bathroom drill.  This time the two lines were not so faint.  All four tests taken.  All four tests positive.  Or were they?   I convinced myself that perhaps what I thought was the sign for positive was really, in Japan, the sign for negative.  You know, kind of like how they drive on a different side of the road.  All of those tests were quickly deposited in the drawer with the first test. 

The next day I went back to the store, picked up a test, and decided to check with the pharmacist on the directions.  With some nice charades,  I was instructed as to what was the sign for pregnant and the sign for not pregnant.  My different side of the road theory was blown.  Back at home I took the final two tests with both coming back very quickly as positive. So quickly, in fact, it was as if they were YELLING at me to get a clue. 

At some point, soon after the half dozen or so tests, I shared the news with the hubby, friends, and family.  Let the having a baby in a foreign country games begin!   

More to come on finding a doctor, the first few visits, weight management (as my midwife so sweetly termed it).  I am now thrilled that in 16 weeks we will be adding to our family.  The denial is long gone and the joy abundant.