So when I found out I was expecting back in October, I was surprised.
We had really only talked about it. Well, I guess at some point we must have talked a lot, because just a few weeks later I felt tired,...not I-Didn't-Get-Enough-Sleep tired...more like Somebody-Has-Sucked-All-Of-My-Juices-Out-Of-My-Body-And-Left-Me-In-The-Sun-To-Shrivel-And-Die-Tired.
Cue in my light-bulb moment.
5 minutes later....pink lines. Two of 'em. Bright, distinctive, undeniable pink lines.
Holy smokes!
(although I'm pretty sure I didn't say smokes) I am what I am.
Two more tests. Because I like to be thorough...and I know my husband well enough to know he will calculate the probability of a false positive.
Lovely trio of pink lines and little blue crosses lined up n my sink.
Oh my.
We have been married for approximately two months at this time.
Oh my.
At this time, I cried a hormonal mixture of joy, fear, terror, excitement, apprehension, fear, terror, love, gratitude, fear, terror....well, you get the idea.
Then I wiped away my snot and sent my husband a picture text with a clever little note to which he never responded.
I did get a monosyllabic phone call on his lunch hour though. He voice was shaky. I like to think it was because he was overwhelmed with joy and not at all terrified, shocked or astounded at his own efficiency.
Calculate THAT Mr. Professor man ;-)
This story only gets more interesting. I promise.
So I kept our secret for about 5 weeks, and by "kept our secret" I mean I told everyone I knew but I didn't post it on facebook.
After about 5 weeks I couldn't take it any longer and I posted this picture to my facebook with the caption "Pink or blue? Either will do, mommy is expecting baby #2!" thinking to myself all the while how clever and cute. I believe it is in that moment that God decided my ego needed a little adjusting and he got out his trident.
But during my sixth week something felt...off. Like really off. I was hurting a lot. I never hurt with Isabella and I knew I just wasn't feeling something normal. I didn't want to concern anybody or come across as you know, one of those pregnant divas, so I just consulted my mom, told David, and then called my doctor expecting them to tell me "Oh, hahaha you're just constipated" or "Oh, you're experiencing normal pregnancy gas pains" But instead, after explaining my symptoms they advised me to come in that day. This was a trifle alarming and it was with a guarded attitude that David and I went to the doctor. We pretty much prepared ourselves for the worst but hoped for the best.
When you're only six weeks pregnant you're treated to a lovely ultrasound experience. Not the cute, squirty rub across your belly ultrasound, but the brace yourself I'm about to stick this remote control sized indicator up your hoo-ha ultrasound.
So imagine me lying there whistling, staring at the ceiling, waiting for it all to be over and find out what sort of malady had overtaken me when my doctor....chuckled.
Now I'm no expert on bedside manner but when things are looking grim chuckling doesn't seem to be the appropriate protocol so I raised up on my elbows to look at the screen and see what gives...and that's when I saw it. Them. This.
In case you're wondering, that's the beginning of two babies.
I knew what I was looking at as soon as I saw it, I could hear my voice and I knew I was saying things along the lines of "Is this a joke? Are you serious? But I only drive a sedan!" My nurse and doctor were grinning and explaining in medical terms about the pains I was feeling, my new high risk pregnancy...etc but I was whipping my head back and forth looking from my husband to doctor, then back to husband...he was a little ashen and I know that blank look in his eyes when I see it...he was fading, fast.
The doctors departed leaving me to get dressed and digest this news with the happy new daddy...only problem was my happy new daddy was unconscious in his chair. Head back and mouth open, sweat pouring out of every pore on his body.
Yep. He fainted.
A few months and some current home renovation later and we have become a little more used to the idea. In fact I think we're even a little...excited. Sure I've had moments where I experience rapid heart rate and anxiety when I consider that I'm going from a mother of one to a mother of three in one pop, but for the most part we could not be more pleased with our new additions.
And in reference to the picture above...the answer is pink and blue. Both will do, and mommy is done making babies too.
