I'm back from Texas, and never so glad to be home! Pam was doing fine, up moving around and looking for things to get into when we arrived. :-) The night before mom and I left for the trip, I could not sleep and ended up staying awake until midnight. I got up the following morning at 5:30 am, and mom and I left out at 7 am. I did all the driving, three hours one way, then got to Gram's and turned out that neither Gram's nor Aunt Pam was able to drive. Sooo... I had to chauffer everyone around while I was there: grocery shopping, to church, etc. Nevermind I was physically dragging! Honestly, it wouldn't have been so bad, but I was feeling a bit ill ... nauseated, and such. Well, I found out today what's up with the nausea. I'm pregnant.
I bought the test last week, but was too chicken to take it. Fearing the worst, I held off until I was "sure" Aunt Flo was about to drop by, then finally this afternoon around 3:00pm I decided to take the damn test. It was positive. I must have stared at the blasted thing for 30 minutes. I read the box a bazillion times. I even called Big Z out of the back room to help me re-read the fiddling directions. How hard can it be? You pee in a cup and drop four drops of urine into the little well on the test.:-P It didn't matter. I didn't trust the results. I think I must be a closet masochist. I needed to torture myself just one more time before panic began to firmly set it. I drove to town, bought an identical pregnancy test, drank a full bottle of diet Pepsi on the way home so I'd have to pee by the time I reached the house. To make a long story short, I came home and took the test. Three minutes later...another positive result. Well, now...
Hubby got home late today, and I must say, as tired as he was, he took it VERY well. He stepped in the door. I hugged him and asked about his day. He came straight in the house, moved to take off his shoes, and was in the middle of telling me about his day when his gaze zeroed in on the two positive pregnancy tests. The look on his face was priceless. He pointed and said, "That does say negative, right?" I looked him square in the eye. "No, honey. I'm pregnant."
He took it well. He stared at me a moment. Stood straight and said, "Well, I guess there's no sense in telling you about my day, since nothing I can say can competes with that." He then came and hugged me. Which was a major relief, since I truly expected a Homer Simpson moment, complete with hair tugging and a loud "D'oh!" Instead, his outlook on the situation was this: "We'll manage as things come along."
If nothing else, I can sleep easier tonight knowing he's not going to completely freak out.