We had to get a test.

Unfortunately, like everything else in China, such a menial task is actually no small task at all. Our goal of getting the test on Friday simply wasn’t panning out. We knew our only other choice was Saturday morning.

We hopped on our bikes and traversed a mile of Beijing traffic to the nearest shopping mall, which holds the only pharmacy with semi-Western products that we’re aware of. We weren’t quite sure what time the mall opened, and we had to chuckle at the sight, as we waited outside the mall doors fifteen minutes early surrounded by hip Chinese young adults anticipating a day of burgeoning capitalism while we were clad in our fresh out of bed jeans and t-shirts look anxiously wondering if we’re about to be new parents. We’re not like everyone else here, and we know that, but some days it just sticks out more than others.

As the doors opened, we shuffled (no one runs in China unless it’s an emergency) to the pharmacy and spent a good ten minutes looking for the pregnancy aisle. Once there we found a sampling of pregnancy tests, but to our dismay the only English we could find on any of them was the bold label of two words, “pregnancy test.”

We looked around for a worker, dreading the inevitable exchange of our minimal Chinese and their non-existent English. Danielle pointed at the pregnancy and said in Chinese, “This one have English?” hoping in vain that somehow the manufacturer had decided to make bilingual directions. Her question didn’t translate, as the clerk began making large bulging strokes across her stomach to communicate that we already knew. Yes, this is, in fact, a pregnancy test.

Thanks. Not helping.

Finally, she understood what we were asking, unwrapped the box, took out the directions, and discovered it was written only in Chinese. She began to explaining the directions in Chinese we could never hope to understand, pointing to the four possibilities of outcome once the test is taken successfully. Now my confusion increased. Four possible outcomes? I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure there’s only two possibilities when it comes to a pregnancy test.

Next we looked for numbers, hoping for some idea of the timing involved. We saw that the third step had the number five in it. But five what? We asked the clerk, she said, “Miao,” and Danielle pulled out her dictionary. The first definition in the English-Oxford dictionary for “miao” is “to aim.” Five aims? Hmmm. Wait. Five aims?! What the heck does that mean? The second definition was, “seconds.” OK. That makes a little more sense.

Realizing that things were going from bad to worse, the clerk began asking around for anyone else that spoke English. One of the cashiers gave a sly smile and yelled out, “1, 2, 3, 4, 5!”

Thanks. Not helping.

Dismayed, we paid for the test, walked out, and decided to console ourselves with a trip to Starbucks. We ordered our drinks and began wondering how we were going to work this out when it hit me. Wait a minute. If that Starbucks waitress can say, “Do you want your Caramel Macchiato with whipped cream?” in English, surely she can translate a pregnancy test. After a little coaxing, I convinced Danielle to go politely ask the barista for a favor. She smiled, giggled, and over an iced Mango smoothie explained to my wife the delicate details of the pregnancy test.

It turns out the four options are as follows: pregnant, not pregnant, and two ways to show no result. But as it turned out, we didn’t need to know the four outcomes, just the one we were hoping for: two bright purple lines that will forever change our lives.