If you had guessed that Monday’s pregnancy test would come back:
a) Up the duff
b) Sprogged up
c) The oh-so-blunt sounding preferred term of my mother-in-law: “Preg” or
d) Any and all of the above
You are correct! It seems this crazy game of hormone lottery has paid off. I am pregnant.
Cue the massive sigh of relief! Wash that down with a quick shock of reality. I am freaking pregnant. It’s amazing and utterly banal all at once.
I’ve already been gently scolded by my good husband for using evil chemicals to get the sticker-goop off our new drinking glasses (bought at West Elm as we whiled away the hours between test and result yesterday – we also bought this light for our dining room. Noice!)
I’m also already adjusting my year-ahead outlook in terms of work. How much of a workload do I really want? What clients should I start really cultivating? And should I apply for the really good job that was just posted in my city, which would mean giving up self-employment for a chance at mat-leave?
All weighty issues, and honestly, all issues for a later time. It’s only two weeks since the transfer, so super-early. We’ll just see what comes, and try to blend my self-sufficient stubbornness with a minimum of toxic chemical exposure.
PS: I’ll be keeping this under my hat for a while yet. Don’t blow my cover, okay?