Ah, the romantic notion of how you'll tell your husband that you're expecting....
"I'm going to wrap up the test in the morning newspaper."
"I'm going to have 'We're having a baby' piped onto his favorite cake."
"I'm going surprise him with a T-shirt that says '#1 Dad.'"
I had the best of intentions for breaking the news to Aaron when that positive result finally showed up in the window. I love to plan, so I had a strategized for several contingencies. If it happened around our anniversary, I was going to buy him a onesie as a gift (because cotton is the tradition for 2nd anniversaries.) Another possibility was to share the news over a romantic, home-cooked meal. But while I had taken into account my love to plan, I had forgotten about the more powerful drive in my repertoire - impatience!
Yesterday morning, after Ringo kitty woke us up for his early morning feeding, I got up to capture that all-important "first morning urine" on a fresh 1-Step. I hadn't even finished washing my hands when the second pink line started to come in and my hands started shaking. A few more seconds, and it was a definite. At that moment, all of my great planning about breaking the news to Aaron went right out the window. How did I break the news to my husband? I bum rushed him out of a deep sleep at 6:15 in the morning and shoved a pee-covered stick in his face.
We were both basically in shock for a few minutes, then I immediately called my sister to share the news. Yes, at 6:15 in the morning. And no, she didn't mind at all!
We're still a little in disbelief, I think. It hasn't really become real yet, but I'm sure it will soon enough....
