Internet, you won’t believe this. I can’t believe it either, so I will ramble on some.

I woke up at 7:15 this morning fiercely needing to pee, but forced myself to lay in bed for another 15 minutes because I couldn’t decide whether to take a pregnancy test right away, as I had originally planned, or whether to wait until tomorrow like a sensible person. (For those who are not connoisseurs, pregnancy tests prefer early morning pee so this decision must be made upon arising. Early morning pee is more concentrated. Or something)

Finally, I decided to pee on the damn stick.

It wasn’t even ambiguous. It was a big fat plus sign. In a way I wasn’t surprised, since I had suspected, but nonetheless I was completely bowled over. Holy shit.

Test # 1 - June 9, 7:15AM

Z made it clear early in our relationship that he is to be woken up before his alarm on pain of death, but I braved death anyways and woke him up. I wanted him to know right away. He was calm about it, as about everything. How can he not freak out about shit like this? It’s probably one of the reasons we balance each other well. We had a few cuddles before I went to work. To absolutely not focus on work!

Test #2 - June 9, 6:30pm

I still can’t believe it, even though it now feels like I’ve been pregnant for weeks because today has felt 1,000 hours long. The ages that made up today were punctuated by the following symptoms:

  • weird uterine cramps (which were my main cause for suspicion before the test too)
  • constipation (oh man!)
  • extra saliva (ew!)
  • foggy brain (maybe just due to extreme distraction!)

As the list indicates, pregnancy is already kind of gross and i haven’t even reached the barfing stage yet. (Internet, I am really, really dreading the barfing stage. Really. I feel like I have a big clock sitting on my chest counting down to misery and incapacitation, and I’m staring at a to-do list I won’t be able to get done. Anxiety much? Trying to chill.) All the pregnancy stuff says my boobs should be super sore but they aren’t. Neither does my sense of smell seem off.

On the awesome side, I called up my neighbourhood midwifery clinic, who have helped two of my friends deliver their babies, and signed up. The receptionist laughed at my last menstrual period date: “Is the stick still wet?” I’m really exited to use midwifery care, and Z and I will have our first appointment on Bastille day – when I’ll be 8-9 weeks and probably miserable.

For now, the “baby” is the size of a poppy seed and I’m trying to focus. This happened so fast. We’re delighted and a little overwhelmed. Yay! Eeek!

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