Spilling the beans.

Last week Melbs and I told my mom that we were having our first baby. That is, that for the first time ever, I peed two pink lines instead of one.

But let’s back up. Married just six months ago, we weren’t exactly trying. But we weren’t trying that hard to not try either. We always wanted to have kids and my personal goal was, and still is to have exactly two of them before I turn 35. So, I didn’t want to limit myself and about a year ago decided to go off hormones all together, opting instead for the rhythm method in order to prepare myself for conception sometime in the next 18-24 months. Looking back, I guess I was a bit overly prepared and as a result, got overly pregnant really quick. But that’s exactly me, all the time.

As was my calm and collected reaction to peering at those two pink lines.

I didn’t mention to anyone that my period was late, or that this PMS seemed to be lasting especially long this month. So quietly, while Melbs was brewing beer in the kitchen, I slipped into the bathroom to see what the test said. Yep— clear as day. Two lines = pregnant. Not even an ambiguous, taunting faint one. I was already running a bath (subconsciously masking my sneaky behaviour) and decided to step right into the water and sit down, process this revelation and decide what to do next.

It wasn’t but 5 minutes before Melbs walked by the bathroom, whistling a happy tune and I had all but forgotten I’d been hiding my test until deciding on my next move. “Hey,” I shouted. “Can you come here and hand me the bubble bath from under the cabinet?” Of course he obliged and reached for the exact cabinet door I had placed the test behind. I know it sounds like I planted this set-up but honest to God I was in too much of a stupor to calculate that well.

“WAIT! Don’t go in there.”

“Why? You’re being weird…”

“Well. Okay. You can go in there, but just so you know… there is a used pregnancy test on the top shelf that says we’re going to have a baby.” Very matter of fact.

Queue Melbs’ jaw dropping to his socks and then his face curling into a smile. “REALLY?!”

“Well. I can’t be sure. We’ll need more tests.” And four brands of pee sticks later, I was convinced. We were going to have a baby. And we knew exactly what to do next.

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