I'm not pregnant, just paranoid

OCD can take different forms.

I buy a ridiculous amount of pregnancy tests.  I’ve never been pregnant.  I’m not a virgin.  I religiously take a little blue pill at 8:30 a.m., use condoms and trust my partner.  I know my chances of being pregnant are small, but I inconveniently convince my mind and my body that I am.  I let the possibility spark and simmer, denying its existence until fear takes up all of my energy and I find myself in the parenting aisle of CVS.

Five days after I had sex for the first time, I bought my first pregnancy test.  Calling it sex is a loose definition.  It was the day after my junior-year prom with my then-boyfriend.  Both of us were virgins and we didn’t plan on this happening, so we didn’t have a condom.  It lasted about three minutes and he didn’t ejaculate.  I knew the science behind baby making and how the sperm has to meet the egg, but that didn’t stop my mind from speculating.

The not-using-a-condom part freaked me out.  I started to ponder about the possibility.  I did the worst thing anyone worried about something can do, especially a pregnancy-speculating girl.  I Googled it.  I read about symptoms, signs and stories of women who were pregnant from their partner’s pre-cum. I convinced myself that these signs were present in my body.  The annoying thing is that most pregnancy and PMS symptoms are similar and stress can mess with your cycle.  So I wait for my period only to notice that it’s not normal. It’s not normal because of the stressing.  But I ignore that realistic possibility and get back to seriously thinking I’m pregnant.

This is how the timeline usually goes.  I have sex and remind myself that I’m protected even though the fear of pregnancy is gnawing at my brain.  I notice something a little off about my body:  tender breasts, bigger breasts, going to the bathroom more than usual, craving junk food, bloating or feeling nauseous.  I freak out some more.  I wait for my period.  It’s too light or too short, but never fully missed.  I freak out some more.  I build up the courage to go to CVS.  I’m totally freaking out.  Thank god self-check out exists now so I can avoid checking out with the teenage boy staring at me with a look of terror as if I’m about to tell him “You’re the dad”.  I buy the CVS Health Early Result brand that comes with two tests for $10.  I take the test; its negative and I can breathe again.  I still worry about a false negative, so the next morning I take the second test for reassurance.  Yes, I’m crazy.  I know this and know I shouldn’t be pregnant, but I can’t seem to stop myself from worrying.

Horror stories and shows like TLC’s “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant” have fueled this irrational spending.  This summer a girl who graduated from my high school found out she was pregnant at eight months.  She had a baby a month later.  This story freaked me out so much that once I was back living in Iowa City I took a pregnancy test in a Planet Fitness bathroom even though I hadn’t had sex since my last period.  I planned on taking the test after my workout, but I became so agitated that after running three miles on the treadmill I took the test in a locker room stall.  It was negative.  I exhaled and continued my workout.  Sometimes I think about what I would do if it were positive.  I assume I would sob to the old ladies doing their arm aerobics.

I’m constantly revising my abortion plan with changing abortion laws.  This plan includes which clinic I would go to, what day of the week, what time of the day, who my driver would be and how I would tell my mom after the process.  Depending on where I’m at, crossing state borders can also become part of the plan.

I average about seven pregnancy scares a year.  I’ve spent over $300 now on these tests to end up with the same result— I’m not pregnant, just paranoid.  If only I could re-read this when the fears creep in and allow myself to chill.  But I’m already thinking of how I’m too bloated, too tired and peeing too much to not be pregnant.