This is Major

Gather round children, it's time for a story!  I crafted this one just for you to read right now instead of brainlessly scrolling through your Facebook news feed.


The date? July 6th, Eric's birthday.  The problem?  I didn't get him a very good birthday gift.  The solution?  Take a pregnancy test -- because even if you're not super stoked about a positive result you have to pretend to be and that's enough for me.  Test came back negative, though, so I had to come up with other ways to make his birthday magical: think Christmas lights, a clean garage, and Anna's ho-made chocolate cake.  Oh and a wife who can still chill the f out with a cocktail.  Not a bad second prize.

Anyway, I told Eric about the negative test and he squeezed me and said "let's try again!" and I was like "you would say that" and then we laughed and carried on with our summer and I didn't give much thought to the baby situation. I had too much fun to even think about pregnancy or ovulation or why I still hadn't gotten a period? (TMI? Just wait for the months to come, friends.) Plus, I was planning on going back to work in the fall, so maybe it would be better to just wait a bit longer?  And thus, it was settled: Party on, Wayne.  Party on, Garth.

7 weeks pregnant.  Such a proud moment.

Except.
Except a few weeks after Eric's birthday we were at our blessed family reunion where we play hard all day, every day...and I was having a difficult time getting up and going, having a hard time catching my breath during our morning boot camp, constantly snacking, secretly looking so forward to laying down with Gracie for her nap, not being able to stomach any of the truly gourmet meals or delightful bottles of wine we enjoy each evening.  I thought maybe I had a little bug, one of my cousins did and she was out of commission for the week, poor thing. I even remember thinking, "geez maybe she's pregnant!?" And God laughed. AT me, not with me. The icing on the cake was when my sister Eden said she noticed me doing the same facial tick I had when I was first pregnant with Grace.  Some sort of nose and upper lip scrunch.  Apparently it's a thing.  So I decided, upon returning home from the cottage, that maybe it would be a good idea to take another pregnancy test.  And sure enough.

My first thought?
WTF.

Suddenly it all made so much sense.  My insatiable desire for Cheetos, bloody mary's with a beer chaser, Cherry Cokes, naps...yes, YES it feels like two and half years ago when I thought I was going bananas in my want for these things.  I'm pregnant.

I'm pregnant! 

No I'm not in shock and yes, I know, I'm glowing.  Be jealous.

So, how pregnant are you, Erin?  Great question.  Let's call the Dr.  I filled my awesome nurse in on all the details and she suggested an ultrasound so we can see how big this little nugget is.  She speculated maybe 5 weeks based on the details, I thought more like 7 based on my symptoms. Survey says?

10.  10 weeks.  Oops.  Sorry little party baby.  So, so sorry.

Turns out my first test was likely a false negative, or I was just a day or two early to get an accurate dosage of hormone.  (First Response? More like WRONG RESPONSE.) Anyway, I would highly recommend not finding out you are pregnant and being very busy because the first trimester has just flown by and I was able to be pretty chill about the whole thing.  New kid, I like your style.  Thanks for letting mama get her party on.  You're already a champ in my book.

Now you know I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, generally.  This new situation is no different.  But that's fodder for a future post or two.  Now's the time for me to tell you that I am through my first trimester (hooray!), I'm due on March 10th, no I will not be going to work in the fall (I am sad about this and I tried, I tried Ford friends!) yes we will be finding out the gender, and yes I am over the moon excited and also I am nauseous and tired.

(And in case you feel compelled to call CPS, I talk a big game and don't drink to excess, usually.  Except beer pong.  So, so sorry.)