I have an announcement to make.

At the end of July, Mr. and I found out that we were expanding our family.

I took not one, not two, but  three pregnancy tests. They were all positive.

Mr. had no idea I had even bought tests, let alone taken them.

Middle Little walked into the bathroom and I decided to have some fun.

“Here, Buddy,” I said, handing him the positive test, “Go give this to Daddy!”

He took the stick from me and looked confused. “Go ahead…” I urged. He ran out of the bathroom and to the couch where Mr. was sitting. I waited behind to give it a minute to register.

“Where did you get this?!?!” He exclaimed, “Give that to me!” Then to me, “Ummmm… do you know our son is carrying around a pregnancy test?!”

I just waited quietly.

“Here, Buddy. Give that to Daddy,” Mr. said. Middle Little handed it over. “Thanks.”

There was a moment of silence, followed by, “Oh my gosh! Are you serious!?! That’s great!” The smile on Mr.’s face said it all. He was thrilled. And so was I.

photo (1)

We had a brief discussion about who to tell, and when. We decided to bask in the joy of our good news alone for a while, and after a few weeks just tell people as it came up.

The next days went on uneventfully.

Thursday, August 1, 2013 I woke up feeling great. I even made a mental note about how I wasn’t nauseous (which I had been starting to feel in the mornings for about a week and a half). I went on with my day as usual, but around dinner time was feeling a bit crampy. Thinking I hadn’t had enough to drink, I gulped down some water.

As the evening progressed, the cramping got worse. I told Mr. that I needed to lay down for a while. I went to bed around 8 and at about 9 I got up to go to the bathroom. I sat down, and there it was: a bright red spot of blood.

I looked down and looked at the blood. As it registered what was happening, I became angry. Angry at myself for not taking better care of my body. Angry at Mr. for not coming and making sure I was okay (he didn’t even know I was awake, let alone what was transpiring). Angry at my kids for being naughty and causing stress. Angry at my baby for not hanging on. I was angry.

So. Very. Angry.

Just as suddenly as this baby, and the joy that came with it, appeared, she was leaving.

…to be continued…

Advertisements