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Posts Tagged ‘The Hot Zone’

I hadn’t even realized we’d reached the peeing on a stick phase of the month. As Gilly mentioned in her recent post, she just wanted to make sure it’d be safe to have mimosas on Christmas morning. Neither one of us really expected the test to come back positive. So imagine my surprise when Gilly suddenly announced, late in the evening as we were getting ready for bed, “I think we’re pregnant.”

Yup! I've contracted new dad face.

It took time to realize what I was feeling was sheer joy and excitement, because my initial reaction was one of pure shock. Could it be? How could it be? Could it really be? It couldn’t possibly be. But there it was. The little pink lines. They couldn’t lie. Could they lie? Well, actually, I guess they do lie. But then when Gilly took the test again…and again…and again, for four days in a row – well, the little pink lines don’t lie that much.

We were going to be parents. We couldn’t contain our joy. But while we didn’t have to contain our joy, we couldn’t yet share our joy. The urge to tell everyone the second you realize you’re pregnant – especially after months now of being, as Angie Z. so eloquently put it, “two endangered snow monkeys with a thousand buggy-eyed freaks awaiting the appearance of your first offspring born in captivity” – is hard to suppress. I mean, this is BIG news. Who can keep something like that a secret for a day, let alone for weeks?

And that, dear readers, is when the first trimester intervened and knocked us both senseless. I mean, we’ve read What to Expect When You’re Expecting but nothing – not a midnight screening of The Exorcist, not a public restroom reading of The Hot Zone, not even eating one last wafer thin mint in a re-enactment of Monty Python’s Meaning of Life – could have prepared us for…Gilly’s first trimester.

Gilly sums up her first trimester experience in her last post, so I won’t regurgitate the horrors she endured. Let me just say this. There. Is. No. Celery. In. Our. House.

But there are two glowing people. After all, maternal bloom isn’t just for ladies…

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