June 30, 2009

Intuition or just a feeling that I knew before that day but that was the official day that confirmed I'm pregnant. That is the day that I think both Paul and I will point to as a changing point in our marriage. Like at that point, at 7:30 in the morning when I showed him the stick with a plus sign, we had to grow up and stop playing at being grown ups. Even if this thing didn't stick, some fundamental part of our marriage--of us--was changed with that little piece of plastic.

I've never missed a period in 21+ years and while my cycle varies from 30-33 days, it's always been there. I actually warned Paul prior to day 30 that something was different--I didn't feel "normal." I kept waiting to actually take the pregnancy test--it was several days late for even a 33 day cycle. I kept telling myself that I'd wait until Tuesday, or Wednesday, or hey, July is right around the corner. We agreed that I needed to do it before we left for the cruise on July 3, just because it would be good knowledge to have before I knocked back a Mai Tai or two or twelve on the ship.

But June 30, I finally screwed up the courage to pull a pregnancy test out of the bathroom cabinet. I'm not even sure how I ended up with it or when it was purchased. Even with no recollection of when the test was actually purchased, it wasn't past it's expiration date. I've taken a few pregnancy tests in the past 9 years, I think mostly for kicks and grins. Typically the results went like this--pee on the stick, wait two minutes, throw stick in trash, continue with life. Who knew that you don't actually have to wait two minutes when you're going to pass the test? That thing pretty much goes nuclear before you've had a chance to flush.

I showed Paul and he who studied out the test and instructions like one of his schematics. We stared at each other for a bit. We both said, "Huh." And that was that.

I'm pregnant. I'm due March 1, 2010.

I called the gynecologist's office just to chat with someone about the do's and don'ts (and get some basic reassurance) before we left on vacation. Paul and I agreed that because it was so early, we weren't going to say anything to the family on the cruise (WORST. SECRET. EVER.). We screwed up our courage against the fact that there was a 20-25% chance it wouldn't stick and started doing what will probably pretty much be the motto for the rest of our lives--we'll take this one day at a time.

And yeah, the reason we HAD to get home from Quebec was the doctor's appointment ( I couldn't reschedule with our two trips in July) that confirmed I was, in fact, 8 weeks and 5 days pregnant with a singleton. Baby had a strong heartbeat and the wee-ist nubbins of arms and legs that were kicked and waved around during the sonogram. Looks like it stuck.