Turns out, truth is NOT subjective

That's the heartwarming text I sent to Lindsay on the morning of December 13, 2012.

It was a Thursday, which is usually the day I start wondering if my period is late or if I'm mistakenly expecting it a week early. (I never kept track very well. Obviously.) In the past, I've always miscalculated by a week. No big deal.

The pregnancy tests I had on hand were cheap ones from Amazon, because I miscalculate enough that I didn't want to shell out $20 to confirm if it was or wasn't my time of the month. Everything I'd read about these particular tests said they were super accurate and great for early testing. So when a faint (not just faint, but faint) line appeared, I abandoned all reason, forgot everything I'd read and started ranting about ambiguity AND HOW DARE THEY MAKE THESE THINGS SO HARD TO READ.

I took another test immediately. Another faint line. Another 20 minutes of utter denial.

I dipped another test in water to compare. No line there, but, you know, I might have a defective batch of tests or something.

My brother was sitting in the living room with me as I was inspecting the three tests and muttering under my breath. I needed a second opinion, so I asked him if he saw lines on the two strips.

"Maybe? No, not really... It's hard to tell," he said.

"Well, it's a pregnancy test, so maybe look harder," I snapped.

He said he saw faint lines.

Not definitive enough for me. I left the apartment for a trip to Walgreens for "real" tests. I grabbed two boxes (two tests each) and hauled ass home.

Two more tests. Two more faint lines.

Okay, looking at it now, I see a clear line, but at the time, my mind was fuzzy.

I texted the tests to my college roommate, Lauren. She has two children and has therefore seen positive pregnancy tests. She immediately called.

"Take a digital one," Lauren told me. "Stop messing around with those bullshit lines."

One of the boxes I had already bought had one digital test in it. I took that one and braced myself for the truth.

...But what is "truth" anyway? That test could be wrong, too. I mean, can you really base such a big life change on one little pee stick? No. No, you can't. I can't. Better get more tests.

I called my brother, who had since left for work, to pick me up some more digital tests on his way home. Dude didn't even hesitate, god bless him. (Also, I think he knew better than to argue with a crazy lady.)

Lindsay came downstairs to see the tests for herself.

"Well," she said carefully, "Maybe it's telling you 'Yes! You're not pregnant! Good job!'"

"Ooh, yeah, maybe," I said, knowing it wasn't true.

"Let's look at the directions again." Lindsay grabbed the box from the trash, humoring me. She read it. She frowned. "Um..."

I sighed and collapsed on the couch.

"You know, this is fine," she said. "This is totally fine. You'll take more digital tests, see what they say and if it's true, it's true and it will be fine."

At this point, I had already talked with Dave no less than four times. He was traveling for work and not coming home until Friday evening. He was also freaking out.

Finally, my brother came home with the tests. All positive. It was time to concede. I made a doctor's appointment, give Dave the official word and longingly gazed at the eight bottles of wine we had purchased for our holiday party in two days. (Yes, the timing of this pregnancy was excellent in the short-term as well.)

And here we are. It's been a couple of weeks now and we've adjusted. We've talked, we've panicked, we've recovered, we've bought baby books, we've talked about names, we've told our families, we've planned how to tell our friends and we've discussed what type of alcohol to sneak into the delivery room.

Truth is, we're ready.*

* Not really. But if we say it enough, it should become true.