Holy Sh*t

B. and I have been planning this whole baby thing for about 18 months. There were a few hiccups along the way. A doctor change. A few false hopes. And a lot of frustration. But on June 6, the verdict was in - it finally 'took'.

Three tests and two days later, I told B. He had left for the annual whitewater rafting trip the morning of the 6th and I didn't think it was cool to tell him such news over the phone (or through text), thus the wait. It was incredibly hard, but it did give me a few days to stop crying.

When B. got home from West Virginia, I didn't even let him carry in his bags before I broke the news. He, of course, already knew. Or so he says. I think he knew my schedule better than me, and therefore knew I was late. He also said he thought it was 'suspicious' that I wanted to go out to dinner when he got home. (I don't know why; we eat out just about every night anyway.)