And so it began...

I have to admit that we fell into a trap. Most things that I had heard about pregnancy was that it would take awhile before she would get pregnant. I know what you're saying: "but it only takes one time at the right moment." I knew that too however, everything I had read or heard said that it could take up to a year. With that we discussed that she would go off the pill and while we were waiting for nature to take its course; we would get our life together and ready for the addition to our family.

Then it happened, first month off the pill. She was two weeks late for her period. The first confirmation came when a pee stick barely showed a positive result. The next couple of days turned over about five different positive tests. While still in disbelief a call was placed to a midwife and the first appointment was scheduled.

The wait for the appointment was easy since I was in shock. Everyday I spent waiting for Mary to tell me in a not-so-obvious way that she began her period. The appointment went quickly there was a height/weight, an exam (which didn't look comfortable), and a blood draw. All the time everyone at the office congratulated us, on my count, about 500 times.

Still it didn't sink in...

The weeks leading up to the second appointment were spent telling our closest friends and our families. My mom promptly began crying in the parking lot of Home Depot when we gave her the phone call notification. Mary's mom was at work when we got a hold of her and she was in such shock that it seemed to me that she had thought it was a bad thing. (I was informed that I was wrong on this and she was just essentially floored by the news.) Mary's father, Greg, was told just before the yearly 4th of July picnic seemed to be in denial until the announcement was made at said picnic. Then he began strutting around talking about how Mary managed to "get herself knocked up."

The second appointment came and was the first Ultrasound. This was preformed internally and again did not look comfortable. We had guessed that the cylon would be about 9-10 weeks along and done our duty by reading absolutely too much on the entire subject. The doctor did some searching around to see how many cylons were growing. He only found one, which I still don't know what my reaction would have been if he had found more (probably something along a catatonic haze). The doctor measured what essentially looked like a blob on the screen that had a little bit of a fuzzy spot in the middle of it, which we were informed was the heart beat. The measurement put the cylon at 7 weeks. The Doc said congratulations, again, gave us a souvenir picture and left the room. So I guess we found out by the pee sticks at the VERY earliest that was possible. Thanks to technology I was able to take a picture of the picture with my phone and send it to both of our mothers. My mom said that that was the next best thing to being there.

I still don't think the shock had worn off by that point, but in the past few weeks it has slowly sunk in and I believe I have finally moved into acceptance. I have also been able to almost literally break my back painting.