I can tell you about one horrible way to announce it. It was early in the 90’s. I had been divorced for three years, and I was casually dating a guy I had absolutely 0 interest in as a life partner. I had 3 kids, the youngest was 7, and I was done.
I was suddenly hit with excruciating stomach pains one evening, while in the middle of trimming the yard. I’m not a whiner, and I almost always fight through stuff, but after about an hour I figured this was something really bad, so I drove myself to the ER. It was late on a Saturday night. I had to fight off scary panhandlers at stop lights and stuff. More than one called me a bitch when I just shook my head numbly.
They checked me in. After two hours I was dozing fitfully on a gurney, in pain, scared and cold.
Suddenly the doctor came briskly in the door and announced, matter of factly, “Your pregnancy test was positive!”
I gasped in horror, and started struggling to sit up going, “What? WHAT?? WHAT????“I didn’t even know they were doing a pregnancy test. No clue. I was on birth control, too, so I was completely unprepared.
She looked at me, shocked at my reaction, like I’d lost my mind. She said, “Well, calm down! Calm down!”
Yeah, that as all bad. It was an ectopic pregnancy which had burst, which is also all bad.
At the time I qualified for Medicaid, thank God, or I might have just kept trying to fight through until I died.
A couple of months later, they cancelled my Medicaid coverage. That was all bad too.