Saturday morning, Ben is home. No ZeroRez today. I get up before anyone else, and come downstairs, and nausea strikes.
"must...Hold it...together..."
I grab a piece of bread and the pregnancy test (kinda gross, I know) and head to the bathroom.
I'm trying so hard to get the dang package open and shove bread in my mouth at the same time I almost pee on myself.
"Finally!" I pull the cap off and start using the most sophisticated piece of technology I have ever peed on.
When I decided I have peed on the stick sufficiently I pull it out put the cap back on, set it on the counter and finish peeing.
While washing my hands I look at the test, its still soaking the "liquid" up through the +/- window and as it does this a HUGE and VERY dark plus appears. and I think "Wait, don't I have to wait like two minutes or something? Seriously? Its been all of 30 seconds and it already knows I'm pregnant? Holy crap, I must be REALLY pregnant."
I'm REALLY happy and super excited! yay! another baby. I had told Ben a few months ago that I thought it was "that time". But he talked me out of it, we needed to wait til the car was paid off and Dylan was a little older so he could be potty trained and by then Jackson would be in Kindergarten or first grade and at school at least half the day.
I eat some real food, so I don't barf and head upstairs to tell Ben the good news.
He, of course, was nervous. But can you blame him? He is already working two jobs, I'm working part-time at Marv's in St. George, we are barely making it paycheck to paycheck and now we are going to add another mouth to feed?
We decide together that everything will be OK and we will work something out, and I'll call the doc on Monday to get an appointment.
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