Bun, oven, and me

Sooooooo........ I went in to the doctor on Friday because of some strange happenings as far as Aunt Flo is concerned. I had the whole yearly physical workup and gave some blood and peed in a cup and all that. Towards the end when I was waiting for some quick test results to come back the doctor came back into the room. "Whoops," she said, "I forgot to grab the results of the pregnancy test." She disappeared for a while. It seemed like forever. I wasn't expecting anything. I was actually expecting her to come back and tell me I was barren or something. So when she returned and announced that it was positive, I was in shock. And then I was making odd high pitched squealy happy noises and crying. Really? Me, pregnant?

We've been officially trying since the beginning of April. And since I'm about eight weeks pregnant right now, our plumbing is potent.

This weekend was a blur. We were originally going to wait until after the first ultrasound because we're all gun-shy since we know two people who have miscarried in the first trimester in the last six months. But in the end we decided to stay positive. We both suck at keeping secrets like this anyway. I think if I would have tried to keep it in, the fetus would have burst out Alien-style and started waving flags. Our entire family officially knows now, as well as friends. We had fun telling Husband's dad last night at his birthday party. Everyone else was clued in and when we sang Happy Birthday we all sang "happy birthday dear grandpa." The look on his face was priceless. I wish I could bottle that.

I made Husband drive me to Ridgedale on Friday because the Calhoun Barnes & Noble didn't have the What To Expect When You're Expecting pregnancy journal. We sat at Applebee's (because we're a couple of classy kids like that) and started filling in the birth plan section.

My pants are already tight. No morning sickness, though! My dad said that my mom never got it either. ROCK.