I Put My Ring on My Left Hand

I was feeling anxious.  I was crampy, slightly nauseous, and my period, while wonky anyway due to my Mirena, hadn’t made an appearance.  I figured I’d be a big girl and buy a pregnancy test for the first time.  I figured I’d get one from the grocery store.  No biggie.

I was jitters thinking about it.  I wanted to just stick my head into the ground and recite the Mirena pregnancy prevention rates, but I had to be responsible.  I went to the grocery store, approached the glass case that held the pregnancy tests, condoms, nicotine substitutes, and lubes, standing in front of the condoms, like I was surveying them, when in reality I was staring at the pregnancy tests a little to my right.  I looked around, seeing if I could find someone who worked in the parmacy department with keys.  I didn’t spot anyone, and i chickened out.  I went home, without a pee stick.

When the cramps didn’t quit, and my period still hadn’t showed up, I decided I had to get one this time.  I marched down to the grocery store again.  I marched to the pharmacy department.

This time it was peak business hours.  People were mulling around the pharmacy, dropping off and picking up scripts and medication.  The case was RIGHT between the pick up and drop off windows.  People were lined up at the windows.  I looked at the case.  I’d probably have to get someone to unlock it.  I’d wait until the lines went down before I’d ask if someone would open the glass-case-o-shame for me.  I hated feeling ashamed, because I had nothing to be ashamed for, yet part of me was deeply ashamed of plucking a pregnancy test from the case in front of all of those people.

Looking at all of these people, trying to prentend I was interested in the aspirin, I did something I never thought I would do: I took my claddagh ring off my right hand and put it on my left.  I turned the ring around so the design was facing into my hand.  So it looked like I was wearing a wedding band.  So it looked like I was married.  I felt it would reduce my shame somehow.  I felt like it would make people judge me less.

Finally, people did leave long enough for me to approach the pharmacist.  I asked him if he could unlock the case for me.  He smiled at me, and said a little loudly "Oh the glass case just outside?  It’s unlocked sweetie."  I forced a polite thank you, then scurried to the case.  I plucked out a pregnancy test, then checked out via self-checkout.  I stuffed the test in my purse, along with the receipt, before doing the rest of my grocery shopping.  The rest of my day, I cursed myself for the shame I still had buried in me, even after years of telling other women there was no shame in being responsible, no shame in stepping up to the plate, and no shame in making choices for your pregnancy.

The test came back negative.