I saw a used pregnancy indicator in the flower bed in front of my building. Just lying there. Discarded. It had spoken its message and been tossed aside.
A pregnancy test does not deliver petty gossip.
It comes bearing news. Real news.
Did the woman who used it want a child? Had she been praying and hoping that this time, THIS time, it would come out positive? Is she jumping up and down and kissing her husband?
Or is she reeling, is her throat dry and knotted? Did she miss that menstrual cycle and think "oh shit, oh shit shit shit," and hoped against hopes that it was just because of midterms stress, but now everything is so fucking real that it doesn't feel real at all?
I can't imagine it's possible to pee on one of those little sticks without strong feelings. Hope, joy, apprehension, delight, disappointment, fear, horror, disgust... the seeds for all of these are contained in this disposable electronic instrument. Based on a simple PREGNANT or NOT PREGNANT her life could change for better or for worse (usually both, I would imagine) or could stay, sadly - or blessedly - exactly as it was. So rarely is there such an intense binary in all of the human experience.
Dear woman, whoever you are, wherever you are, and maybe even the potential child whom your blood will nourish, my heart goes out to you.