As I was standing in the drug store with my 15 year old son looking at early pregnancy tests, I thought “how did I end up here?” I turned 50 this past November and I don’t feel depressed about my age, I don’t stress about grey hair or lines on my face, I feel really good, probably better than I felt at 20, but pregnant at 50 is definitely not something that is in the cards for me. So why was I standing in a drugstore talking to my 15 year old about the possibility of being pregnant. I was close to 24 days late, there was a romantic incident with my husband that happened when I could have been fertile, I suffered several incidents of being nauseous that past week and I was extremely tired and bitchy. All signs felt the same as when I was pregnant with both boys.

I finally told my husband of my suspicion and his answer was “that’s awesome baby, just think of all the fun we can have, it’s not like you can get more pregnant.” “Honey, I’m serious, there is a real possibility I could be pregnant, I’m not kidding.” “Either am I, we’ll work it out,” he says with a wink and a sly grin. I go a few more days wondering, not wanting to test to find out the truth, because the truth be told, there is no bloody way I want to be pregnant at this point in my life.

A couple of days later, I’m driving the boys home from school and my oldest looks like someone peed in his cornflakes. “What’s up with you, you look miserable?” I say. “Nothing mom, but I’ve been in a real bad mood the last couple of days and I’m not sure why.” “Oh really, try being me, I think I’m pregnant!” Not missing a beat Brendan lights up and leans over the front seat and says, “mom that’s awesome, a new baby, that would be great.” “Just think, I can train a baby brother and get him to the NHL.” “Brendan, why do you assume it’s a boy, could be a girl.” “Then I’ll train her to the Olympics.” “Brendan, I’m serious.” “So am I mom, a baby would be awesome.” My 13 year old’s jaw is still dropped and he looks like he’s gone into shock. “How did this happen?” “Well Matt, remember that hockey tournament in the States, Dad and I sent you and your brother off with the coaches for dinner and we stayed back, well…” “Stop right there mom, I don’t need to know any more than that, this is not good mom, we do not need a baby in the house.”

Now I know Matt’s motivation for not wanting a baby in the house is because he’ll no longer be the baby and he is not ready to give up that status. His motivation is completely self absorbed and I could not agree with him more – I don’t think we need another baby either, especially not at 50. Brendan is still going on that it would be great and I quickly remind him that at 50 I find him, at times, difficult and that I can’t imagine being 65 with a bloody 15 year old teenager, nope don’t want it. “Brendan, I don’t even want a dog never mind a baby.” “Mom, you can’t compare a dog to a baby.”

After dinner that night, Brendan and I went to the gym. Typical we get to the gym, he goes his way and I go my way. Halfway through my workout he comes over to my area and loudly announces “Don’t you just have to pee on a stick to find out if your pregnant?” “Yeah, I whisper, but I don’t need everyone here to know that!” “Do you have any money?” he says. “Yeah why?” “Because we should stop at the drugstore mom and pick up that stick.” “Brendan I’m not ready to pee on the stick.” “Come on mom I need to know.” An expression my Irish grandmother use to say pops into my head, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, give me a hand here.”

Thirty minutes later, I found myself in the drugstore looking at sticks with my 15 year old. Threw the stick in with a few other purchases and home we went. I’m not in the house five minutes and Brendan is asking me if I’ve peed on the stick yet. I tell him that I’m waiting until morning as the HCG hormone is stronger in the morning.

The next morning first thing I do is take the test and the stick shows negative. It was a little early to wake the boys, but I couldn’t resist. I go into Brendan’s room and wake him, when he opens his eyes I flash him the stick. “What does it mean mom?” It means my dear that you will not get to train your NHL star.” I go to Matt’s room and repeat the same, he says “What does it mean mom?” “It means that you are still the baby in this house.” To that he gives me a big smile and a two thumbs up. My husband who is in his office finishing up his midnight shift, “hey take a look,” as I show him the stick. “Negative he says.” “No wild freedom sex honey,” I say as I’m walking out of the room and to that my husband is shouting something as I’m walking down the hall. There are times my severe hearing loss is such a blessing and this was one of those times!