From an excerpt of my memoir, “Birth Pains: A Modern Day Scarlet Letter
“I’m pregnant!”
I held up the white plastic strip; its’ two pink lines glowed like the morning radiant beams of sunshine that peek through our kitchen windows as if in solidarity of this wonderful news. The test instructions had advised it would take ten minutes, but those twin pink beacons announced my pregnancy within seconds. Steve, who had been reviewing his prayer cards at the dining room table in our ugly 70s green rental house we had been living in for the past two years, jumped up, looked at the results, stared at me for a second, then pulled me into his arms and kissed me.
“We’re going to have a baby.” He whispered on my lips, and I could see tears streaming across his eyes.
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