Just a sprout!

In early February, I waited outside our second bathroom where Adam was comfortably tucked away under a fan and reading the New Yorker. I knocked on the door hoping to give speed to the process. When he finally emerged I dragged him to my bathroom where an EPT with the faintest blue plus sign sat waiting. We questioned how such a wimpy sign could be taken as truth, but acted counter intuitively, at first, ignoring our reservations and celebrated. However, it was extremely pale, and despite the directions, which explained that a saturation issue should simply be ignored, we felt like clumsy fortunetellers in need of a second opinion. Or at least Adam did. Over the past few months pregnancy tests were my cocaine. If Adam wasn’t around I was peeing on an HCG strip - the procreative eight ball. By New Years, after growing tired of bright blue negative signs in e.p.t. windows, I put a baby in the mind’s attic and focused on baking and yoga instead. But if I knew anything about pregnancy tests, I knew what a negative one looked like. I also knew that I was pregnant; I can’t begin to tell you why or how I knew that, but I did. So when the second test proved similar, like a replica of an ill preserved watercolor, the antithesis of a bright, clear and dependable dash, Adam asked that I make an appointment for a formal test to make sure. I obliged after telling him to get used to the idea anyway. He knew I was telling him the truth; he simply didn’t want to rally a hope that could be painfully and quickly dismantled. The doctor said it had been so long since my last menstruation that the thought of testing was laughable and we’ve been living in euphoria ever since! We are now at week 12, the end of month three, and thus in near sight of the passing of one queasy, emotional and exhausting first trimester. We’ve already made the move to a bigger crib and started a list of quasi-serious (mostly leaning toward the former) baby names which include: Geronimo, Penny, Transbot, Lena and Augustus.

My first ultrasound occurred during Wk 6 close to Wk 7, when our little embryo looked more like a plankton with a perfectly beating heart. Our second ultrasound, at WK 11, was nothing short of magical. We are starting this blog (upon request even!) as a way to share our pregnancy with those precious friends and family who are scattered across the country and those of you who are perhaps near in distance and in the heart, but because of the general pace of life it has become hard to keep in touch. The transition from a marriage into a family will be the craziest adventure Adam and I will ever attempt. Here it goes!