Bobtina One-Shots

The Best or Worst News of Someone's Life

Christina's Point of View

Why did you have to wait this long after you peed on the stupid stick? I just wanted to know if I was pregnant or not. Is that so much to ask?

It's a good thing I didn't do this when Bobby was home. He'd come in and check on me. It'd ruin the surprise. The plan. It'd ruin my plan.

Although, the plan could be ruined even though Bobby isn't here. It was all up to this stick.

How did these things even work? I'd heard sometimes they gave you false answers. A negative when you were actually pregnant. Talk about surprising. I mean, the stick said negative, then you're gaining all this weight and your feet are swelling and you just want some ice cream and you don't know why. Like, seriously, the stick was negative!

But what would be even worse: if the stick was positive, but you weren't pregnant. You think you're about to start one of the best (I think) and miraculous journeys of your life, and you go in and never mind. The stick was wrong. You're not pregnant.

So how do you know if this stupid stick was telling you the truth? How did you know if you did it right, if you were really getting the best or worst news of your life?

Some people would say you could pee on a bunch of sticks. Two, three, four, maybe even five, if you really wanted to know.

But what happens when you pee on two and one has a plus sign, the other a minus? When you pee on three, and two of the three are false? What if you pee on four and it's split in the middle?

Maybe I should go in. A test in the hospital doesn't have false positives or negatives, right?

Bobby would worry, though. Or I'd have to wait even longer because I'd have to set up an appointment.

By this point, the answer was on the stick.

I looked at it, and quickly looked away. Like it was a graphic part of a movie or a sad commercial on TV.

Then I looked back at something I couldn't believe.

The small pink plus sign stared back at me, and I was stuck. I was crying. I was smiling. I couldn't make a sound.

And I had to follow the plan now, so I picked myself up and shakily walked out of the bathroom.

We're gonna be parents. Bobby is going to be a dad and I'm going to be a mom and we're going to have a baby.

I walked to the bedroom, opened the closet door, and began digging through the shoes, boxes, and couple articles of clothing that had fallen off hangers until I found the bag hidden waaaay in the back.

I pulled it out and brought it with me to the bed. I checked the time, making sure Bobby wouldn't catch me getting everything ready.

I first grabbed the things I'd gotten from our parents.

I placed my little baby shoes in the entryway with all of our other shoes. Bobby wasn't terribly observant, but hopefully these would be the first things he noticed when he came in.

I then pulled out three bottles I'd purchased when we started trying for a baby. Even if we never got pregnant, I could give them away. But now we would need them. Eventually. For sure.

I placed them on the counter in a little row, and got the baby blankets from my mom and Bobby's mom.

His was dark blue and gray, something he'd apparently slept with until he was seven years old. I draped it over the top of the couch. I looked at mine, the frayed edges of a blanket I couldn't even remember.

Mine was brown with pink polka dots, something I only would've been found with as a  baby – when I didn't have a say in it. I draped that one over the arm of the couch in hopes Bobby would at least see one of the blankets.

I then placed my baby book on the bed, Bobby's next to it. For a while I just looked through the books, completely enthralled by how different the world was when we didn't know what was going on.

I heard the garage door open and quickly pulled the blue shirt out of the bag and placed it on the bed, folded neatly. I brought the bag with me to the bathroom and began changing, waiting to hear Bobby's voice.

I pulled on the leggings and purple maternity shirt that said "baby on board" over the front.

I wasn't even close to showing yet, but I thought it'd be a cute way to tell Bobby I was pregnant.

"Christina?!" Bobby called from the front door.

"In here!" I yelled back.

I heard him slowly making his way to the bedroom, and I wondered if he saw any of the things I'd left around the house.

As I said, Bobby wasn't terribly observant.

I heard the bedroom door open, and Bobby's voice rang through.

"You in the bathroom?" His voice was kind of distracted, though.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm almost done."

I heard rustling of things on the bed, knowing he'd found the books and the shirt I'd bought him.

"Christina, get out here."

"One sec!" I called.

"Are you serious right now? Is this real?" There was so much excitement in his voice.

I opened the bathroom door quickly and saw him standing there, staring in awe at the "World's Best Dad" shirt I laid on the bed.

He looked up at me and read my shirt.

"You're pregnant?" He asked.

I nodded quickly.

"This isn't a joke, right? This isn't some TV show or YouTube challenge? There aren't hidden cameras around?"

"No," I said, laughing. "I'm pregnant."

I took two steps back and grabbed the pregnancy test, keeping my fingers off the part I'd peed on as best I could.

I held it up and he looked at it.

"You're pregnant!" He said excitedly, leaning down to kiss me and bringing his hands to my hips, pulling me into him.

"I'm pregnant!" I repeated excitedly, tears coming to my eyes.

"I'm gonna be a dad," he said softly, his head resting on top of mine.

"You're gonna be a dad," I repeated. "We're gonna have a baby. We're gonna be parents."

"We're gonna be parents!" He repeated excitedly, lifting me up and carrying me to the bed, setting me down on it and lightly dragging his hand over my stomach.

We both knew our baby was just a bundle of nerves, maybe with small human features, but  not much yet. It was still there, though.

And it was amazing to see him just as excited as me.