Juice came to me over the weekend to tell me she was late.
Yeah. THAT kind of late.
And not just a little bit. More than a week.
For this, we were not prepared. I had inquired about getting snipped last year, but came up with a hernia that needed more immediate attention right at the end of the calendar year, blowing my entire deductible and leaving me unwilling and unable to have another procedure before the calendar turned. Without extra cash reserves to pony up for another round of deductible (and since when did hospitals start collecting the deductible up front?), I opted to wait.
I guess we'll be having that discussion again this summer.
We thought we were done with long nights, diapers, formula, and on and on and on...
After everything we've gone through with Peach, we didn't want to risk any of that ever happening again. We were done with kids.
Juice felt horrible because the considered all of the options, however briefly, and just because the though of any option besides the obvious one had entered into her head, she felt like a horrible person. I have to say, when something unexpected like this comes up, I think anyone who says they don't at least have a small glimpse at every option available is lying.
I thought about it too, and immediately put it out of my mind. If this was the way it was supposed to be, it would happen. I've taken a very zen approach to everything lately, since nothing seems to be panning out the way I want it to. I've just decided to do what I can do to make things good and accept whatever happens.
Juice went to get milk late Monday and picked up a test while she was at the store. When she got home, Peach and Peanut were finishing getting ready for bed, so I told her just to wait until they were down so we could deal with whatever the result was together.
She did, and we did. Luckily, it was negative, and further proof came the following day.
But, holy cow.