The excitement of expecting

“Pregnant.”
The word was so clear on the pregnancy test, even though I was so sure I wasn’t. There were no ambiguous plus or minus signs. Nope. The tests are digital now, so it was clear. It said pregnant.
I was stunned. Although it’s exactly what we wanted and had even been plotting for the last several months, I just couldn’t believe it. I’m nearly 30, have a great marriage, a career, did everything I wanted to do before settling down for good, so why couldn’t I believe it?
After letting it sink in for a second, I started to think about how I could tell my husband. I’d always thought that would be even more fun than finding out myself. Maybe I would wait until we were out to dinner and then we’d celebrate, I thought. But two seconds later I decided I couldn’t keep this secret any longer.
Meanwhile, my husband was sitting on the couch playing PlayStation. OK, if you’re thinking this doesn’t sound like a mature father-to-be, know that he works very hard at his day job, often does freelance work at night, and is a great husband in every way. So sometimes he finds a little R&R in NFL 2006, or whatever it’s called.
At this point I was shaking, and a little teary-eyed. So, instead of trying to talk I held the stick directly in front of his eyes.
I stared at him, waiting for his moment of shock, but after a long pause, he finally spoke. “Uh, what exactly am I looking at here?” I say, “Read what it says,” pointing to the screen.
And then I don’t even remember what we said next. I know he stopped his game. And we didn’t really know what to say. I think our mouths were hanging open and we just kinda stared at each other. Then we started to think about what kind of timing this all would mean. March, we figured, would be when the baby was due.
The following month was filled with all kinds of exciting moments that I had always looked forward to. We sprung it on my parents by nonchalantly showing them a book I recently bought, entitled “I’m Pregnant!” We had his parents each open up their own bib, reading “I Love Grandma” and “I Love Grandpa.” We even bought a crib and changing table that we fell in love with.
But somehow I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t real or maybe I was getting my hopes up for something that wouldn’t work out. We thought maybe once we go to the doctor, she’ll confirm it and then we would really believe it. However, one of the many new things I had learned was that a doctor doesn’t see you until you’re 12 weeks along. 12 weeks! That’s three months!
Eight long weeks later we finally were at our doctor’s appointment. After all the routine medical history questions and checkup, the doctor held something called a Doppler to my abdomen. By the time I turned to my husband, she had already found the heartbeat. It was beating so fast and sounded so clear. one hundred seventy beats per minute. Normal, she said. It was really amazing. The first real sign of life. I was so glad my husband was there to hear it with me.
So, maybe it took us awhile, but now we’ve finally come to believe it. We’re having a baby!