How We Found Out
Stephen and I had talked about having kids for several years before we decided to start trying. And it seems like each time we got around to when we decided to try, we'd postpone for 6 months or a year for some reason or another. Most recently, I wanted to complete another marathon. One last one before pregnancy. We all know how that went. And after my DNF. I realized that situations and opportunities will continue to arise my entire life.
There would never be a right, perfect time.
At the beginning of this year, we felt ready to enter this new chapter of our lives. Prepared. Financially and emotionally stable. As my friend Heather pointed out to me, though, when we finally DID see a plus sign on a pregnancy test, all of that would fly out the window (and the anxiety would be joined by much excitement, of course). She said: "You never REALLY feel ready when it actually happens."
Of course, I believed her, but also thought: "Nah. We really DO feel ready." Plus, we figured it would take at least several months -- if not longer -- until we'd get to that point anyway. In that time, we'd sort of try but not try. That would give us a while to prepare even more. Right? Well, wrong. Imagine our surprise when on our second month of trying-but-not-trying, we saw a faint second line on our test.
I started to suspect something the day I PRed on my 4-miler. Right around St. Patrick's Day.

I had killed my old time and was feeling strong after the race. But in the afternoon, I started getting some sharp pains in my lower abdomen. In one specific spot. In fact, I distinctly remember saying to Stephen in the Panera drive-through, "If this isn't implantation pain (sorry: TMI?), I don't know WHAT is! Owwwwwww."
But I forgot about it for a few days. It may have been a fluke muscle issue. Or something. I definitely couldn't be pregnant already. And then I decided to just test for the heck of it one night. I mean, in a way, I DEFINITELY didn't think I'd see a positive because you're always supposed to test first thing in the morning. It was almost like I didn't want to know.
So, when the line next to the control started to fill in darker and darker: "OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG. Oh. My. Freakin'. God. Seriously? OMG." The feeling was more frantic than excited. OK. It was excitement, too -- but it didn't at all feel real. How could we get this news so soon?

Turns out that discomfort I felt after the race must have been when the baby decided to stick around -- literally. Now, I'd always imagined that the moment I told my husband we were expecting . . . it'd be this intense, emotional, sappy experience. Instead, I called him from downstairs (frantically, of course) to make sure my eyes weren't playing tricks on me.
They weren't.
I couldn't read his reaction well. I think he was silently going through what I was feeling and expressing . . . loudly. We were both happy. Extremely so! This baby was most definitely planned. But -- WOAH -- we had JUST put our house on the market the day before. And . . . this was happening so quickly. I took several more tests to verify the result, including a digital.

It was still so early. So, I didn't want to tell anyone else just yet. I went online to read some advice. Which was a HUGE mistake. Then, the fear set in.
Would this baby stick around?
Would we be able to afford the move now?
When would we tell our family?
Our friends?
Work?!
Will I get really sick like my mom did?
Are we REALLY ready for this?
When is our due date?
When should I go to the doctor?
Will I be able to run?
What if something is wrong?
The list of questions kept going and going. So, I decided to cool down with a jog around my neighborhood. It helped, for sure. The rest of the night, we didn't talk much about it. We were both a bit overwhelmed -- seriously happy -- but o.v.e.r.w.h.e.l.m.e.d.
My friend Heather was completely right. You never REALLY feel ready -- 100% -- to receive probably the most life-changing news. Soon after, though, we did have our sappy moment. It became way more real to us. And now we can't wait till November.
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