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Spring was a busy season last year. My MIL visited, my parents visited, and then I drove across the state of Tennessee with my parents with stops in Nashville and Memphis. In early June, S and I drove to Kentucky to see the Broadway tour of The Book of Mormon, and that was our last hurrah before he set out for more business travel. He was gone for a few weeks, and when he returned, he was sick... for awhile. He just couldn't kick the crud. For almost two weeks, he was trying to rid himself of it. At one point, I thought, "Oh, great. I think I have whatever you brought home from your trip." I spent a day nauseous and passed out on the couch. I anticipated two weeks of sickness, but miraculously, I was better the next day. A bullet dodged! Right.
It took a few days for me to realize that the one-day yucky feeling wasn't a contagious bug. It might actually be caused by a person... growing inside me. Every day, I looked at my Kindara app as my "time of the month" approached. I felt different, and I felt so sure, but I didn't want to say anything until the almighty pregnancy test told me it was so. That "time" came and went, and I started getting really antsy and excited.
I was so sure that I was pregnant that I didn't want to spend the money on a pregnancy test. I only told a few people this, but I bargain shopped for pregnancy tests! I went to CVS, Walgreens, Target, and Kroger to a) look for the smallest package of tests ("Why can't I buy just one or two? I don't need four!") and b) look for the lowest unit price. It sounds so ridiculous, but it's completely true. My cheap ass didn't want to spend a lot of money to be told what I already knew. Pregnancy tests may as well have been fortune tellers to me. For the record, the best deal I found was at CVS.
I peed on that stick of a fortune teller on June 25. I was still, ahem, taking the test when a plus sign appeared. It happened almost immediately! I wanted to scream and cry, but instead, I looked at myself in the mirror and whispered, "It's happening! We're having a baby." Do you know how hard it is to keep something like that a secret? I do. I did it for ten days! I didn't want to tell S when he wasn't feeling well, so I waited.
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He worked on July 4. When he got home, I could tell he was feeling much better. I asked, "How was your day?" He launched into a story about something that happened that day. He was feeling good and in a good mood which meant it was time.
I put an envelope in front of him on the kitchen counter when he wasn't looking.
He thought it was mail but then realized it wasn't stamped. "What's this?"
"I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"I guess you have to open it."
He read the card... and then he read it again, because he was trying to process what he was reading. It was a card to him from the baby. He looked up at me. I stood up and pulled up my shirt to expose a package of yellow rubber gloves tucked next to my belly; he always joked that he wouldn't change a diaper without rubber gloves. "Surprise!" (It sounds weird, but it was supposed to be like the baby inside my belly was giving him the gift.)
|Our future child had been referred to as "Banjo" since we were months into our relationship. It was a joke that then became commonplace. It was never "when we have a baby," it was "when we have Banjo."|
"Wait, what?" This is where I started tearing up. "Are you pregnant?" I nodded my head, let out a laugh, and started crying. We spent the next five minutes crying and laughing and hugging and swimming in "oh my god"s.
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It was a truly wonderful day. I hadn't planned to tell him on the Fourth of July, but that's how it panned out, and now the day is extra special for us.
Side note: July 4 also happens to be Boone's birthday. When we met him at 5 months old, his name was Sam (as in Uncle Sam), but the name just did not fit. Because of his adventurous spirit, we renamed him Boone (as in Daniel Boone). Just another reason why July 4 is special to our family!