Because I'm PG... as in preggers, gotta bun in the oven, knocked up, with child, and vessel of life!
I have been dying to tell everyone, but we waited to tell our families first, then our friends, and then work. Now that the cat is out of the bag, we can tell the whole world!
Right now, I am about 12 weeks. Our little nugget (or hush puppy as my mother calls it) is due in early August. We are really excited and/or anxious depending on the moment.
The day I found out was early on a Sunday morning on December 5th. I took three tests (the last two pictured here), because I was certain the first test was broken.
Pregnant? Me? How could that be possible?
After confirming it not once, but three times, I tried to go back to bed and rest before church. I laid there, paralyzed and decided that I could not just lay there. This was a momentous occasion, and I needed to celebrate! Of course, the only proper way to celebrate a baby on a Sunday is with a big Sunday breakfast. I told the Knight I couldn't sleep and that I was going to make some breakfast. He snored and snoozled cluelessly while I set to work in the kitchen, all the while glancing over at the (cleaned) tests and confirming to myself that "yes, yes indeed, it, no, THEY say I am pregnant. What in the world?" I probably looked like a mad woman in there...tousled bedhead hair, wrinkled robe, simultaneously chuckling and crying, shaking her head, and happily sighing.
Finally, I finished the pancakes, bacon, eggs, and coffee and carried the covered tray to our bedroom.
I woke the Knight, and he sat in the bed blearily confused as to why in the world he had a steaming tray of food in his lap.
Clearly, I do not make breakfast often enough on the weekends. :)
Unable to contain my excitement anymore, I whipped off the towel and pointed at the word.
"BBQ?" He hazily yawned. "Why BBQ?"
"No, silly....it says BABY!" I squealed.
"It does?" He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, now fully alert. "We are? What?? How am I supposed to hug you with all this food in my lap? Come 'ere!"
We pushed the tray aside and hugged and screamed while Henry and Betty helped themselves to the tray of delectables. Everyone was happy.
Fast forward 8 weeks, and here is the Nugget Roberts.
Everything seems to be going great, and for the first time yesterday I got to hear its tiny (but very STRONG) heartbeat. It was incredible.
So far, I've been feeling okay. Nausea, fatigue, food aversions (& Cheez-its cravings!), and headaches have tormented me, but I am not giving in. Soon, I should be entering the blissful period where I have boundless energy and feel beautiful in my ever expanding body. I eagerly await those days.
Of course, I will continue to keep you updated, because, um, HELLO! We get to decorate a nursery! And shop for baby clothes. This should be fun.
Also, it appears that our long-planned ski trip will now be what is apparently referred to as a babymoon. We didn't know I was PG when we planned the trip, but thank goodness it is scheduled for next week because my fabulous doctor said I can't go too many more weeks and safely ski.
Steamboat, here we (three) come!