Saturday, January 5, 2013


Here's the situation:

I didn't have a clue. 

Which isn't exactly true.

I just turned 38 and I'd convinced myself that the changes I've been experiencing in my body were perimenopause. Really. I was coming to terms with it to the point that I even told my bishop last week. (I do not recommend giving this sort of info to your bishop. It is definitely in the realm of WTMI, but he asked how old I was and I was definitely feeling old that day. It just sort of spilled out.)

I found the unused Dollar Tree pregnancy test while I was cleaning and moving back in yesterday, and decided to just hold on to it. I've been emotional to the max over the last week. I can't remember a day passing that I haven't had a full on cry. Add to that the fact that I've felt like I'd had a boob job. Both details I chalked up to symptoms of perimenopause. And I was accepting that. Really.

And then this morning after crying half the night and most of the wee hours of dawn, I decided to just take the test. For the heck of it. Not because I thought I'd get a positive, which it was almost instantly.

I'm in shock. My husband is in shock.

He's convinced that all he has to do is breathe on me to get me pregnant. We haven't been all that active in the last month, obviously, and when we were it's been protected. 

I'm not convinced it will stick. The last one didn't. But I've made it a full day, and we've discussed cloth diapers and breast feeding, and I'm not cramping or even spotting. I just have a bodacious chest and a splitting headache.

My husband is doing his best to cope, and I'm doing my best to listen to his concerns and anxieties.

School starts Monday. 

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