When I showed him the little window, Nathan put his head in his hands.
"People who are trying to get pregnant would kill for their test to look like that," he said.
"No, look: there are kind of two lines," I said, "but one of them looks like it's just a mark where a line should be, not really a line. So it might be negative after all."
He looked at me with what could have been pity. Or disbelief. "Trust me. You're pregnant."
I sat quite still on the couch in the office, and Nathan turned back to the computer and ordered the lab tests. Then he hugged me and told me it would be okay, and I walked in slow-motion (I'm sure it was in slow-motion) down to the labs.
Having had one baby, I've read my share of pregnancy magazines where women share oh-so-sweet and wholesome stories of how they let their husbands know the happy news: "I gift-wrapped a pair of baby booties and put them on his pillow!" and "I bought a pint of 'Big Daddy' ice cream and taped the pregnancy test to the lid!" (um... ew).
I'm kind of betting they don't want to know about wives who crash their husband's office between patients, with a zip-locked EPT in their purse and a bad case of denial.
I'm also betting, though, that three months into this pregnancy with Baby 2, we're now every bit as happy as the rest of them. It'll be amazing for Berry to have a little brother or sister, and we can't wait to see who this little person turns out to be. 2008 is going to be way more interesting than we bargained for.
Berry loves babies. And that makes three of us.
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