You Know You're a Million Years Pregnant If...

I'm 37-weeks along today!  In pregnancy news, that means the baby is full-term and can come out anytime with little-to-no complications.  WOOT!  Given that this past week has been hot, muggy and very uncomfortable for me, I think it's time to revisit and add to my "You Know You're Pregnant If..." list to include third trimester or, in my case, late pregnancy, symptoms.  Get ready to feel sorry for pregnant women everywhere!

You know you're REALLY pregnant if...

• You suddenly become a spectacle that people can't help but either stare at or smile kindly toward.  Sometimes, if you're lucky, strangers will also find it necessary to tell you how HUGE you are or shoot a "Good luck with that!" your way.
• You find yourself a bit tired of giving random (yet well-meaning) people the lowdown about your baby status and contemplate making a t-shirt that says, "NO, I don't know what I'm having; YES, I know I'm giant; and NO, I have no idea when it's going to get here but I think you're safe and won't need to learn how to boil water anytime soon."
• Your baby wages a painful ribcage-match against you at least a few times a day and all you can do is yell "Uncle!" because, really?  You're never gonna win that one.
• It becomes necessary to employ a Sumo Stance in order to pick something up off the floor or dry your legs after a shower.
• You feel like yelling "Yabba Dabba DOOOOO!" every time you look down at your giant, swollen feet. Fred Flintstone, anyone?! 
• Your already-hated nose grows wider, but you barely care.  I mean, have you seen these FEET?!
• You are so, so tired due to the 4-6 (sometimes you see every hour on the clock - fun!) bathroom breaks and tossing & turning you do at night, yet you feel stupid complaining about it because pretty soon you'll have a little person yelling at you waaaaay more often than that.
• Back spasms become the new thing, but your cumbersome belly makes it awfully difficult to stretch the way you used to, leading you to use the wall and office chair in excitingly new ways.
• Speaking of difficult, it becomes nearly impossible to wipe your behind properly for some insane reason...this hardly seems fair, given the fact that "productive bathroom breaks" are few and far between these days as it IS... (hey - just being honest!).
• You begin referring to your stomach as The Crumb Catcher, because that's exactly what it is.  On the bright side, at least you have a snack for later! 
•  Despite being exhausted times a trillion, you can't sit still to save your life because in your little pea brain, all you can irrationally think is "THERE IS STILL SO MUCH I COULD BE DOING, OHMYGOD!"
• Your favorite past time (when you finally allow yourself to sit down and relax) becomes watching your baby perform Gumby-like feats in your stretched-to-the-limit belly.  That never gets old. Never.
• You stop reading the baby books and iPhone pregnancy applications as religiously as you once did because it seems so 'Old Hat' by now.
• You take an infant/child CPR class and suddenly consider yourself an expert on the subject due to that nifty little certification card they handed out following the 4-hour class and test that you SO TOTALLY ACED (and just so you know - the 30 compressions flanked by two light puffs/breaths should go to the beat of 'one and two and three and four'...See? EXPERT.).
• While putting your rings on in the morning, you say a little prayer; While taking them off at night, you swear and use half a thing of soap trying to pry them off your sausage fingers (mmm, sausage!).
• You begin to seriously wonder what exactly it's going to take to get the baby out of you - you've taken the birthing classes, read the books, asked for the brutally-honest war stories, and tried to visualize labor, but realistically you know that none of that truly prepares you for what is ahead.
• Daydreaming about what (and who) the baby will look like becomes somewhat of an obsession.
• You still maintain that all of this is SO WORTH IT because you are thisclose to meeting your new, little person.  How exciting is that?!

Like Wine I Can't Have, I Like to Think I Get Better with Age

As I come up on the halfway mark of this pregnancy, I can’t help but reflect on age and time. I’m not someone who has many regrets (really – we grow so much from those things we probably shouldn’t have done) and honestly wouldn’t change much about how my life has played out thus far. I’ll admit, though, that while I never thought I’d be a young mom, I also never thought I would be thirty-four by the time I gave birth to my first child. Not that I think 34 is old -- it’s just that in my early twenties, there was a time when I thought I was more ready for this big step than I did when I was in my late twenties and early thirties!

I look in the mirror and I see a slowly-deepening line spanning my forehead, a faint 'V' crease between my eyes, smile lines, and silver hairs that seem to multiply by the month. I look down at my hands and see the beginnings of thinning crepe paper skin, and can’t help but notice that I must now watch what I eat in order to not gain weight, despite not having a problem with this just 5 short years ago.

I could feel chagrined that these signs of aging are already being presented to me. Instead, I make myself see the beauty behind these unconventional gifts:

• The line across my forehead is from all those times I raised my eyebrows in wonderment during a heartfelt conversation with a friend, and for all the times I was greeted by a joyful surprise;

• The little creases between my eyes are from all those moments I spent deep in thought, studying the world around me – learning every step of the way;

• The smile lines signify all the times of laughter, all the plentiful reasons I’ve had to smile in my lifetime;

• The silver hairs – the same color as the hair both my sweet grandmothers had that I used to lovingly touch and call beautiful – are a symbol of the overflowing wisdom I’ve gained from real life and from those who loved me enough to teach me;

• The less-than-smooth hands indicate a life of hard work, of cleaning and caring and living and washing away the dirt of life that I didn't let beat me down;

• The extra weight on my hips is from the food I’m blessed enough to have plenty of, consumed during the many celebrations I’ve been a part of that included cake and champagne, hugs and cheers.

When I allow myself to reflect positively on the physical changes that are happening to me, I feel proud. It is all of these visible markings that have ripened my soul enough to give me the life experience I need to be able to someday pass it on to Chickpea, to show him/her the beauty and ways of this world s/he is about to enter into. There isn’t anything I would change – not the lines or the extra pounds; they were earned and will serve me well as I go from being a lady to becoming a mother.

These are the gifts I’ve been given and I will continue to graciously accept them with each year I’m blessed enough to be on this Earth.

You Know You're Pregnant If...

• You suddenly can’t read enough birth stories, and they all make you cry.
• Dropping a big shadoobie is now cause for celebration - as in, “I deserve a cupcake for every day that has passed since I was last able to go.”
• You take up drinking decaf coffee to moooove things along - and buy a new coffee maker (all hail the Kuerig!) just for this purpose.
• Your boobs go from small to big, or from big to “oh-my-god-I think-a rib-just-cracked” proportions.
• Your skin goes from oily to itchy & patchy, causing you to grab for your significant other's dry skin lotion for the first time ever.
• You go from being ‘hell on wheels’ to becoming a more conscientious driver, starting the day you find out you’re pregnant.
• You stop bemoaning another pound gained - and constantly "dieting" - and begin celebrating the weight you put on for the sake of the baby.
• You begin to think maternity pants are the answer to Thanksgiving dinners or PMS after you give birth…these things are GLORIOUS!
• You keep a plastic bag in your purse and car for impromptu upchucking sessions, having learned the hard way that not having one when you need it is not cool at all.
• You find that a toilet isn’t the only acceptable place to throw up – the kitchen sink is closer (God bless Clorox)!
• You start forgetting things and suddenly understand why your mom used to call you 'Oliver' after the dog instead of by your own name.
• You begin to wonder what happened to your stomach muscles - and blame the loss of them on the fact that you moan every time you stand up from the couch.
• You start having crazy-person dreams that make no sense and keep you thinking long after you've climbed out of your warm, cozy bed.
• You now salivate when you see icky things as opposed to the yummy things, and learn to take this as a warning.
• You go from having a sweet tooth to wanting to hurl upon seeing that delectable three-layer cake.
• You cry at the cheesy commercials that used to make you roll your eyes or laugh hysterically. 
• You find you have to remind yourself to stop sucking in your gut…it’s a hard habit to break!
• Watching the news becomes unbearable and scary, causing you to think, “Look at the crazy world I’m bringing this baby into!”
• Brushing the back of your tongue in the morning no longer just means good hygiene. It also means "Breakfast round one, coming right up!"  
• You become a more forgiving person, thinking “Aww, but that is someone’s son/daughter" as opposed to “That person could really use a boot in the arse.”
• You know where the bathroom is located in every establishment you've ever been in, because chances are, you've already had to use it.  Twice.
• You go from being embarrassed to pass gas in front of your significant other to ceremoniously lifting your left cheek and letting out a satisfied sigh.
• Conversation always seems to lead to bodily functions and you no longer feel bad about it or offer apologies. In other words, you become downright CLASSY.
• People start touching your stomach and you let them, when only a few weeks ago that would have been cause for a dirty glare and a “What is wrong with you?” comment.
• All of these crazy new things feel completely worth it…because you know that when this is said and done, you will have a precious baby to love and call your own.

If you think of any to add that you learned from your own pregnancy experience, please leave them in the comments section and I'll add them on.  Besides, I look at this list as a work in progress...I'm pretty sure this is only half of what I'll learn from this experience, since I DO have another 5 months to go. *God Help Me*

UPDATED to add a link to my late-pregnancy symptoms!!  Click here for more!

POP!

I made the 7-hour drive home to see my dad, Yom (my stepmom Carla, also known as Yom or "Your Other Mother"), and sister Rachel in Indiana this past weekend, and had an absolute blast!  It was a trip to simply visit, not for any specific reason, which is the best kind if you ask me.  I hadn't been home since late July and hadn't seen my parents since October!  We spent the time chilling out, eating, talking about nursery decorating ideas, and shopping for maternity clothes.  THAT was fun!

Rachel and I went into the fitting room and Carla sat outside waiting for me to show her things.  Now, something you should know is that Rachel and I are pretty ridiculous when we get together.  I realize that others might not find funny the things that totally crack us up, but what are you gonna do?  We went in there and were greeted by a wrap-around belly pillow to use as a stand-in for my soon-to-be-huge stomach.  If you've had the pleasure of trying one of those things on, you will know that it's kind of impossible to know which way it should go.  You will also know that it makes for one seriously lumpy bump!  We tried in vain to rig it up right and ended up laughing so hard I honestly thought I was going to wet my pants.  When we finally got it on, I started trying the clothes on and parading out to show Carla the different items.  That was when I realized there was a long line of..."muchly" pregnant woman waiting to get in the rooms.  And they weren't impressed by my fashion show, let me tell you.  I almost wished I had snacks to hand out to them all - I'm learning that snacks are valuable to a with-child woman!

I felt a bit silly purchasing all the loot I decided upon (sooo many cute things!!) because I hadn't even begun to look pregnant despite being 14+ weeks along.  Yet, as the weekend progressed, I kept saying, "I feel so bloated!" and would look down at my rounder-by-the-minute stomach.  By Sunday, Rachel finally said to me, "Amy, I think you have to stop saying that...you're not bloated, YOU'RE PREGNANT!"  The girl had a point, and the point was this: I had officially *POPPED*.  Since then, my stomach has gotten a bit bigger by the day and I couldn't be happier.  I'm earning this bump, folks, and I'm going to wear it with pride.

Now where is my granola bar?!

Scary Scare

This past Saturday, I started bleeding. Not spotting: bleeding. Mark and I were at home settling in to watch a movie - popcorn already popped - and I ran to the bathroom before the lights went low. I went to wipe and was greeted with pure blood, with more red drips in the toilet. There weren't any lumps or mucus, it was just blood. I had no idea what to think about it, but I was freaked. I called out to Mark to tell him, and he suggested I call our midwife. I talked to her and she said it was best to go to the emergency room just in case, because "bleeding of any kind during pregnancy isn't normal."  It was 9:20pm and we were headed for a long night.

We arrived at the E.R. and were the only ones there besides one other couple.  They got us in pretty quickly and we were greeted with the NICEST nurse and doctor- a blessing in and of itself! Honestly, they really made things a lot easier and more calming for us. It was determined that I would have an internal ultrasound, which would require a catheter. While waiting to be taken to have these procedures, I couldn't stop my mind from racing. I thought about how easy it had been for us to conceive, and how it would only seem fair that we would have to pay for that now. I spent some time playing a silly game on my phone to keep my mind off things because my anxiety was as high in those moments as it has ever been. Mark was such a sweetheart, rubbing my back and thinking positively. He never lost his cool (although he never does). Having him there to reassure me was exactly what I needed. At one point I looked down at my shirt and found a Molly hair (our dog who is like a fur-covered anxiety pill - she's The Awesome) and instantly felt this weird sense of comfort in it. It's funny the things you hold onto when you feel so scared and out of control.

The catheter? Well, let's just say it hurt like a mother. Getting a tube shoved up a tiny hole isn't something I would recommend to anyone. I instantly had this feeling like I was peeing my pants, and at one point, I said to Mark, "I think I just peed the bed! I hope I don't crap my pants...OH WAIT, I'M NOT WEARING ANY!" Hey, humor has always been my favorite crutch...

We were wheeled into the ultrasound room, which was dark and cool. The tech was steel-faced and didn't say anything as she began the internal ultrasound, filling up my bladder with fluid so she could have a "window" to look at my ovaries/tubes to make sure there wasn't blockage that could have caused the bleeding. She then took out the catheter (OUCH followed by sweet relief) and began to look at the baby. We couldn't see the screen, and it felt like an ETERNITY before she said, "Now...I can't tell you anything, but why don't you just take a look at the screen." She turned the screen toward us and we saw our little Chickpea wriggling about, heart beating fast. Mark and I squeezed each others hands tightly and just stared in awe, tears filling our eyes. The tech turned on the speaker and suddenly we heard the little stampede of a heartbeat rushing straight to my heart. 180 beats per minute, strong as it should be. Out loud, I said, "OHHH! What a RELIEF!!" When she left, Mark said to me, "That was the coolest thing I've even seen," and I had to agree. Our baby was O.K. Thank God!

The next day, I was still quite sore and felt like I had a bladder infection. On one of the many visits to the bathroom, I was greeted with more bleeding. My heart sank and I began to cry. Mark was out of town for work, so I called him. He was once again very reassuring, saying that we'd had bleeding once and the baby was fine, and it would be fine again. It was hard for me to believe in the moment, though. I called my sister, who is a nurse, and she talked me through it even more.

Today, we went for a follow-up and met with the O.B., who said that some unlucky woman bleed throughout their pregnancies, and that there is a new increase in blood flow and new arteries that could have caused a small burst in my case.  She was also honest and said that if I'm going to miscarry, there isn't much I can do to prevent it, so I should just go about life as normal.  I felt relieved hearing that from a professional.  It was the perspective I needed at that moment. 

For now, we've decided not to tell anyone else our good news - it's just too risky. I'm afraid, very anxious, and worried that we might not get to meet our Chickpea. But I'm also grateful for the glimpse we were able to have of him or her, to have seen with our own eyes that things are going just as they should. And for now, I can only pray...

Little Things

So far, one of the least "fun" things about this pregnancy occurred last night.  I got home from work and had an instant desire to make chocolate chip cookies.  I found I had everything needed to make them and went right to work, forgetting entirely about what I’d make for dinner.  So I’m measuring, sifting, stirring away and as I dump in the chocolate chips, I get some of the now-finished batter on my hand and instinctually go to lick it off.  BUT THEN, I had to be a responsible mommy and stop myself due to possible raw egg contamination — a definite no-no while pregnant.  A wave of sadness came over me as I doled out the cookies and walked the bowl to the sink to rinse out the delicious rest.  I’m not going to lie: it took everything in me not to lick it clean.  I don’t mind having to pee every hour and watching what I eat, nor do I mind that I will soon be gaining weight like it’s my job (which…I guess it kinda will be).  But having to refrain from partaking in one of my most favorite childhood-like behaviors?  That. Stunk.

On a more positive note (according to my book), the baby is now officially a fetus and is no longer considered an embryo.  And instead of being the size of a raspberry, it’s now the size of a GREEN OLIVE.  How exciting is that?  Too bad I can’t have a martini to celebrate.  ;o)

Windows

While waiting at a red light this morning on my drive to work, I saw through the window of the car in front of me two shadows – driver and passenger – moving closer and closer, finally settling in for a sweet kiss.  Being able to witness that private kind of simple love made me smile.  It reminded me of all the times Mark and I have leaned in to show each other our own love.

Later on the drive, almost to work, I saw a little hand waving and waving from the backseat of the van in front of me.  As I could only see the outline, I wasn’t sure what they were doing until a smile crept to my face as I realized it was a little child beckoning me to wave back at them.  I couldn’t help but giggle as I waved in return, reminded of how I used to pump my little fist in the air, up and down, to get truck drivers to sound their horn in salute.

It would be nice if every day started out with a little kiss and a wave, don’t you think?

Right now, I find myself worrying in little ways about what is happening inside me, about if our baby is still safely growing its way into the world.  I sometimes wish I had a window to my womb, so I could blow a kiss and wave at the little darling.

The thing is, I don’t feel pregnant, aside from some breast pain and having to go to the bathroom every hour (I’m drinking a TON of water lately, since I think it’s good for the chickpea).  I’m not battling nausea or feeling too faint, which irrationally makes me pause with concern now and then.  It seems so silly to assume that because I feel so good, something must be wrong.  I can think of plenty of pregnant women who only wish they weren’t such good friends with a bucket!  Still, we’re taught to believe certain things happen when you get pregnant, so when those don’t happen, it’s easy to wonder if things are coming along as they should.

I can’t seem to find a pregnancy book that will appease all the wonders I have, which isn’t surprising since each pregnancy is so different.  This is part of why I write here, even though no one – aside from Mark – knows about this site and/or is reading yet.  I guess I just want a place I can come to, an evolving story to call my own.  Someday I will most likely look back on this and laugh about all the silly worries I had.  For now, though, it’s the only window I have to peer into my own thoughts, as they race about with no place to land.

I don’t *want* to drink, I just want to *pretend* to…

SO! I’m newly pregnant and no one knows! This presents few problems, except for wanting to yell from a mountaintop: “I AM FERTILE, HERE ME ROAR!”

Ahem.

The other main problem is when we have plans to do something with friends.  Do you know what plans with thirty-somethings always seem to include? That’s right, alcohol.  I’m lucky I haven’t missed drinking at all, since I’m a lightweight and don’t drink a lot, anyway.  Really, the only time I would drink before getting pregnant was in social situations and rarely did I have more than one or two in one sitting (I've grown up - and more responsible - over the past few years: SHOCKING!!).  Still, it’s quite obvious to my friends when I don’t drink now, since I’m always known to bring a six-pack over to share when we get invited to a gathering or order a glass of wine or beer during a dinner out.  Therefore, I’ve been shirking plans and telling people I’m busy when asked to have a drink after work, which really stinks!  Just because I can’t drink doesn’t mean I don’t want and miss the social interaction.  I’ve even ignored several email invites from a few friends asking me/us to get together for dinner and drinks.  And that’s just plain RUDE.

Some would say to lie, but I’m not a good liar and I honestly feel like lying would be jinxing things.  And since there are several people who know we were trying to get pregnant, I would feel wrong telling them I’m not if they were to ask if I am.  If I say ”no?” JINX!  I know that sounds silly to some, but it honestly stresses me out to think about.  Lying leads to bad things, folks.

I have plans this weekend to go home to Grand Rapids to have drinks with my older sister, Alicia, and my cousins Kimberly and Julie.  Julie sent an email early this month asking when would work for us to all get together for drinks, since it’s been waaaaaay too long, so we decided on January 30th.  That would be tomorrow.  When we made the plans, I didn’t know I was pregnant and as I mentioned before, I honestly didn’t think it would be this easy for us to conceive.  I’m NOT COMPLAINING, obviously, but it does put me in a slightly sticky situation if I’m not quite ready to share our great news yet.

I think I might arrive early to the restaurant and have a little chat with the waiter, asking them to bring whatever I order (daiquiri, margarita, etc.) to me, only WITHOUT the requisite alcohol in it.  That could work, right?  BUT, the idea of sharing this news with a stranger just so it isn’t shared with the people who have known and loved me my whole life seems so…wrong.

This secret pregnancy thing is so confusing, it could almost drive me to drink. ;o)

2/1/10 UPDATE:
I survived the dinner/drinks with my sister and cousins!  I only had to fib a little (and I'm SURE they saw right through it, anyway...) when I ordered Soda and Lime and got a funny look.  I simply said I was dealing with drainage from a cold & wasn’t feeling great and no one pressed.  No one wants to talk about your phlegm, yo.  I can live with this, especially knowing I will soon be able to admit the fib once we’ve been to the doctor and feel more comfortable sharing this news.  I’m not condoning lying, kids, but if you plan to tell the truth later?  I SAY GO FOR IT.

Four Years = A Lifetime of Difference

Four years ago today, Mark entered my world and rocked it in a way I never would have expected.  By the time he came into my life, I think I was finally at a place where I felt like I deserved someone like him, but I certainly didn’t believe I’d actually be able to find him.  However, if I would have put into words then what I thought I wanted in my 'forever person,' I certainly would have short-changed myself.  You see, I never would have thought to wish for a love so perfect and good.

In four years’ time, my life has become unrecognizable.  Not one thing today, aside from some family and friends, remains the same as it was the day my handsome, kind, blue-eyed husband walked into view and changed the way I look at the world.

 How cute is that? He was slightly mortified when I asked him to pose with this as we 

shopped for baby books, but he indulged me anyway. LOVE HIM!

I don’t have to tell you Mark is my favorite person – that’s a given.  I believe one can see that written all over my face when I look at him.  Truth is, I have the honor of being a wife to the best, most all-encompassing human being I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I still find myself staring into space, wondering how I got so lucky, how in the world it ended up being me he chose to love for the rest of his life. Even when life isn’t perfect, I still have the knowledge that when I walk through the door of our home, there is a person waiting for me, willing and able to help me get through anything that may come.  I know it might sound cheesy to say, but I honestly DO think I have the best husband in the entire world.  Here are a few reasons why (grab your barf bucket now; I’m about to lay it on thick!):

• He is thoughtful and kind and has a selfless, unfaltering heart;
• he teases me in a loving way which has taught me how to laugh at myself;
• he’s a most ethical and moral person, yet he never judges me, even when I judge myself;
• he makes me feel safe…his hugs are a refuge;
• he makes me laugh, sometimes even when I’m crying;
• he is able to settle me down when I’m angry, without compromising the issue that made me upset in the first place;
• he’s the smartest person I’ve ever met and always knows something about something – without being arrogant;
• he is a great listener but also offers great advice;
• he’s a giver, not a taker;
• he takes such great care of me and our puppies and works exceedingly hard to provide a great life for us;
• he never falters in his support for me and our life together;
• he treats me as an equal, yet towers over me in every way in my own mind;
• BEST OF ALL: he somehow loves me just the way I am – and reminds me of this love and admiration in little ways every single day.

And now, four years later, I am 5 & a half weeks pregnant with our baby. Knowing this makes my heart feel as if it could burst.  I can think of nothing more sacred and amazing than bringing someone into this world that shares Mark’s genes, who will someday offer more of the good he brings to this life. I won’t lie – I still feel like it’s a dream, me being able to carry that gift within me for the next months and eventually bring it into the world.  I hope I never take any of these blessings for granted.  I couldn’t ask for much more, and for that, I’m beyond grateful.

Happy four-year ‘dating’ anniversary, Mark.  I love you…so much.

I Own Smaller Dinner Plates

I was doing some online research for baby books today and was looking through part of one on Amazon when I…happened upon a photo of a naked, pregnant women about 6 months along.  And, well, I really hope my nipples don't get that BIG and dark, is all I’m saying…  *gulp*

And So It Begins…

I slept in today, which is what anyone with a paid day off should do.  For some reason, though, the second I woke up I thought, “I’m going to take a pregnancy test today,” and that’s just what I did.  I wasn’t expecting positive results.  We’ve only been trying for two months, after all.  So when the test quickly presented two lines, I couldn’t believe it.  I stared at my face in the mirror and breathlessly said, “Oh my…” and happy tears promptly sprung to my eyes.

 Mark and I write messages to each other on our bathroom mirror; 
the heart with 'love' you see in the mirror is one of them.

At 33.5 years old, I’ve spent plenty of time wondering about the man I would someday marry and the baby I would someday carry, both of whom I’d love more than life itself.  When Mark – my soul mate – came into my life, I found myself daydreaming about what our baby would look like.  I hoped it would have his chin dimple, and envisioned blonde hair and laughing, blue eyes.  At the same time, though, I also internally worried a lot about how hard it might be for me to conceive.  Being a mother is something I’ve known I wanted to do for a very, very long time - and when you want something badly enough, it almost seems inevitable that it would be hard to come by…right?

So when I saw those two pink lines, I must admit I felt disbelief.  Sure, I was happy enough to yell out to my puppies, sitting there staring up at me, “Girls, you might have a little brother or sister soon!”  Still, I was just skeptical enough to run to the store and buy a two-pack of pregnancy tests and pee on a second stick in the bathroom of Meijer, too.  OH, YES I DID.  I had plans to have lunch with a friend in less than an hour and knew I couldn’t truly enjoy myself if I didn’t know the truth beforehand.  Once again, those two lines instantly leaped up at me and I did a happy dance right there in the stall.  I quickly drove to Baby Gap and bought a teensy, tiny onesie that said ‘I *heart* Daddy,’ then went to lunch, lying through my teeth to my friend about how baby-making was going.

Later that night, I rolled up the stick with the two pink lines into the onesie – tying it with a bow – and put it back into the Gap bag.  I did this so Mark would think it was a random present, since we occasionally pick up little prizes for each other during errands.  He was lying in bed, getting ready for sleep, when I sat down beside him and handed him the bag.  It felt slightly reminiscent of our engagement day, actually, when he woke me from a deep sleep early one morning with a sweet card, red rose, and shiny diamond ring in hand.  On that day, I had no idea my life was about to change so much.  And on this night, he had no idea his was about to change even more.  As I handed him the bag, he tested the weight and said, “This doesn’t seem very big!” It took everything in me not to say, “Oh, trust me, it’s BIG!”  He took out the onesie and untied the bow.  And then, suddenly, he looked very confused.  Silly me; why did I think he would know what a pregnancy test looked like?  After asking several jumbled questions such as, “What’s this?…Is it a…test? What…?,” his face broke out into a huge smile and he said, “Oh baby, this is SUCH great news!!”  And then he practically hugged the little – yet oh-so-big – onesie before cradling me in his arms.

Now I sit here wondering about the ride on which we are about to embark.  What kind of ride will it be?  Will it be like a roller-coaster, with its thrilling ups and scary downs?  Or will it be more like a lazy Sunday drive through the country during which time we slowly pass by farms and dream about someday having a house on twenty acres with baby ducks swimming in a pond?  Truth is, I love both prospects equally.  And I plan on enjoying this ride, no matter what is in store for us.

One thing is for certain: this baby is already immeasurably loved and desired.  I’m in awe over the fact that as I type this, I’m in the beginning stages of growing a one-of-a-kind person, a unique being that only Mark and I were able to create together.  And with that realization, my outlook and life has instantly changed.

I can’t wait to know you, precious little one.