A year ago today I was peeing on a stick.
I didn’t think anything of being a week & a half late. My body doesn’t exactly run like clock work. But the future father of my child insisted I took a pregnancy test. So, that fateful Wednesday, I dutifully, if not a little begrudgingly, did so before I went to work.
Low & behold it was positive. So I went out & bought another one. It was also positive. Then I called the other half & ate humble pie. He came home from work, I called in sick & we sat staring at the two sticks for a while.
An hour later the doorbell rang. I’d completely forgotten my dad & H were picking up the airbed. We had two options. My boyfriend could hide in the bedroom while I got rid of them as quickly & non-suspiciously as possible. Or we came clean.
We chose the latter. My dad’s first words? “Oh. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree does it!” Mom’s first words a few hours later? “Oh! Congratulations! That’s a surprise!”
Well, it’s been a whirlwind year with numerous highs & lows. And as I type this, I have a little bundle breast feeding skin-to-skin with me in bed. In truth, I wasn’t prepared for how my life would change. Given the choice last year, I’d have probably chosen to get a kitten instead & Baby Girl’s dad would have got a puppy. Having only held two babies in my life I had absolutely no idea what to expect.
But so far, it beats getting a puppy. Or even a kitten.