$1 Pregnancy Tests

So I took a pregnancy test yesterday. It's not that I particularly thought that I was pregnant. It's just that I've only had 2 periods in the last, oh, 4 years due to pregnancy and nursing on domperidone (drug to boost milk supply). Plus, I have read the high school brochures about some of the (ahem) less reliable birth control techniques, which we currently employ.

Honestly, I'm lazy about tracking periods anymore. I think my last one was mid-September? And I haven't gotten the obnoxious pre-period zit yet. So it had me... concerned.

I wouldn't have gone out and spent $30 on a pack of First Responses, but someone a long time ago turned me on to the $1 pregnancy tests at the dollar store. It's a simple chemical reaction, so why not? I've had one stored away for several months now, and I pulled it out and peed on it.

Negative.

I was relieved. Very relieved. We're still not sure there's going to be a #3 ever, and even less that it will actually come out of my body (I'd rather adopt, myself).

So why did I have a very small, almost impercebtible sense of disappointment?

Do we as women mourn each of those negative pregnancy tests, even if we aren't trying to get pregnant? Why do we do it?

Is it the loss of an idea? A great adventure that we could have embarked upon, but never packed our bag? Did we subconsciously bond with this potential child, even when he was just a proverbial sparkle in the eye? Maybe it's just a little nostalgia going on-- a little selective memory. Running a hand over a watermelon belly, feeling those sharp little kicks from the inside, dressing your newborn in ridiculously tiny clothes, putting her to your breast...

This must be how the human race survives. Of course, the human race survived long before pregnancy tests. Hmm. I think I'll make myself a salami sandwich with feta cheese and a glass of wine for lunch-- you know, all those things you're not allowed to have when you're pregnant-- while I contemplate that one.