I’ve kept a journal since grade school. I think I had to for a class once, and the concept just stayed with me. The day I found out I was pregnant, I started a new journal to record the adventure I was starting. This is the first entry of that journal….
3-13-09 / 3:45 p.m.
There were two pink lines.
It’s been three months since your father (what!?) and I decided to throw caution to the wind, and today there are two pink lines waiting to be discovered by him when he gets home from work. I made those two pink lines prettier by covering up the end I peed on with a pretty paper embellishment. I ripped it off the invitation to Melissa’s baby shower. I knew I saved that invitation for something.
3-13-09 / 6:35 p.m.
Well, that didn’t go anywhere near like I planned.
The first thing your father (okay, still weird) does when he gets home from work everyday is head to the bathroom. I left the pink lines on the toilet lid where he’d be sure to see it within minutes of arriving home.
Instead of going to the bathroom, he came in and showed me his new business cards.
Then he checked his email (he NEVER checks his email).
Then he came back in the kitchen where I was making dinner to chit chat some more.
Then he went into the living room and started watching 30 Rock which was recorded from the previous evening.
Then he noticed the furnace wasn’t working properly and went downstairs to inspect it.
I called the furnace man to schedule an appointment.
Then we ate dinner while he finished his show.
Then he went into the bathroom to take a shower. (Finally!)
“What is this doing in….,” he started.
He’d spotted the two pink lines and the embellishment covering the wet tip.
To hear him tell it, his mind went completely blank. What does two lines mean? The second line is so faint – does that mean something?
Little Poppy Seed (that’s the size you are right now – I did some research), he doesn’t know whether to believe it’s true or not! I called to make an appointment for a blood test. Apparently that’s the only way to know for sure. My appointment isn’t until March 23, though, so we’re living in limbo until then, I guess.
But I know you’re there, little Poppy Seed.
Keeping a journal is the only way I know to ensure the details of these special memories aren’t forgotten. My memory is horrible, so I write. I encourage everyone to give it a try. You might even be surprised what you find yourself writing! Sometimes my feelings and thoughts can’t be completely formulated until I take pen to paper.
Do you keep a journal? Why or why not?