I took a pregnancy test this morning

It was negative.

Just like it was supposed to be.

To be clear, we're 99.9999% sure we are d.o.n.e. If it were only up to me, I'd probably have the guts to go for three eventually, but the transition to two has done such a number on my husband that there's really no way we're going to choose to go through this again. We're not making a final decision for a while yet--we figured there's no point in making our decision while we're still sleep deprived and waking at night and probably only operating at like, 80% capacity. And I'm not going back on hormonal birth control. I'd like to say "ever," but at least until I'm all the way done breastfeeding. So we're using condoms and being very careful about things. In my husband's words, "I'm probably more afraid of getting you accidentally pregnant right now than I was in high school."

I'm not charting. I'm not doing anything to keep track of my cycles. I notice my fertility signs throughout the month, but that's based more on habit than anything else. And my cycles are normally long. 32-35 days each. And breastfeeding can make things wonky as well.

All that to say is that I can't remember how long it's been since my last period. So this morning, I took one of the dollar-store tests we have stashed under my sink for this very reason: my peace of mind.

It was negative. Of course it was. And I wasn't sad. I was relieved.

But when I picked it up, when there was that moment of actually checking to see if there was a second line, I was taken back in time to two other times I did the same thing. I remembered, for a moment, the thrill, the elation, the stopping of my heart, the feeling of screaming and crying and going hot and cold at the same time, of hearing my blood rushing in my ears. I remembered what it was like to see a second line there. Remembered what it was like to be totally overwhelmed with emotion, awash with joy and elation and excitement and fear.

I wasn't sad the test was negative. I was sad that that moment of seeing a positive test, that moment of the most intense emotion washing over your body, that moment when your entire life changes . . . sad that THAT moment--those moments--are forever in my past.

January 1, 2009 and September 8, 2010 . . . those were good days.

And the me that was there those mornings? The me that saw those second lines? She was a lucky gal.