It was March 2004. I forget the day. But for one reason or another I took a pregnancy test. I don't know why I did. I was just told days before that I didn't ovulate. I took one anyway. I peed on the stick and walked out of the bathroom. Kent was in the living room and we just waited. It had to be the longest 3 minutes. I go back in there.. look at the stick.. sit it down. Slowly walk back out of the bathroom and told Kent I was pregnant. Again. This would be my third pregnancy of which the first two ended in miscarriage. Kent turned white. Like seriously, the blood left his face. I paced up and down our very small and slanted hallway. I called my parents. My daddy answered the phone. With a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes I told him I was pregnant and to start praying that we got to keep this baby. I hung up the phone, went into my kitchen and took my progesterone pill. I was scared to death.
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