It is 7:45, and amazingly, Liam is asleep. I, on the other hand, am not. He woke me up at 6am, and I caved and gave him some formula and changed his diaper in hopes that he'd go back to sleep and let me do the same. Well, he did, but I couldn't make it happen for myself. Blame last night's martini...My intention was to make myself one gin martini and relax in front of the TV...which I did, but I had no idea it was going to knock me on my butt like it did.

I heard him tossing and turning till about 7:15 and heard some grunting in there. I know what I have to look forward to. Am I a horrible mom for leaving him sleeping in his poop? Non-parents may say yes, but I am pretty sure parents would say no.

I was reminiscing upon the time when I found out I was pregnant with Liam. You know, it took us 5 months, and in those 5 months it, in retrospect, evolved more into a game of trying to make two blue lines instead of one.

They say to test first thing in the morning since you haven't peed in a long time (or for at least four hours). I have a small bladder, so I wake up several times a night to pee anyway. So, the morning I intended to take the test, I had woken up at 3am and decided that was the best time to go ahead and do it. Andy was at work, so I was by myself.

I don't think I would have been surprised either way at that point, but I was so used to seeing and expecting that one line (and waiting ten minutes to see if that second one would pop up, even though they say that if it's going to happen, it'll happen within three minutes). So I took the test and then set it down and went to get the instructions out just to verify what I was supposed to do at that point. In the middle of doing this, before I could even get the instructions out, I glanced down and saw two lines (if it's positive, they actually pop up really quickly, apparently).

So my thought at that point was something like, "yay, I made two blue lines! Shouldn't I be jumping up and down or something?..." And I may have jumped a couple times just for the sake of jumping up and down because that's what you're supposed to do when you find out you're pregnant - especially when you wanted it as badly as I did. At that moment in time, though, it is really hard to translate two blue lines to the enormous life change that they represent. I just thought to myself, "shouldn't I be a lot more excited than I am?"

I suppose it is understandable, though. I had gone 25 years without ever having said the words "I'm pregnant" in my mind. "Pregnant" was something other people were, and it was not an adjective that ever applied to me or that, until a little while prior, I wanted to apply to me. So to wake up one morning and be able to say those words, well, it's a little foreign. Reality sets in a little later, gradually, over the course of 9 months.

God knew what He was doing when He said that humans' gestational period should be 9 months...it gives you plenty of time to prepare (and PLENTY of time to say "I WANT THIS TO BE OVER!!").

I wanted to think of some sweet, unique way of telling Andy, but it did not end up working out that way. His shift ended at 6am, and I started work at 7:30. I left the house around 6:45, and sometimes he'd get home around 6:35 or 6:40. That's how it happened that morning. He came in and I was eating my breakfast in about the same place in the picture above. It was written all over my face - he knew.

It was a Friday, the Friday before Memorial Day, so I would have gotten off work at 1pm and headed up to the lake. That was a really weird day, coming in to work with this little secret and still trying to get used to those words going through my mind and all the implications that came with them.

Happy times! I can't wait to do that again...it won't be for a couple seasons, but it's something to look forward to. However, sometime in the last couple weeks my incessant desire to have another one has subsided greatly. Not that I don't want to have another one, and I don't want to change our plans up. I think it has something to do with what a challenge Liam is at this age and wondering how we'll manage. We will, though. When I was at Abby's hanging out with Baby Jeremiah, thank goodness Ali was watching Liam. At the same time, Abby's house has no reason to be baby-proofed yet, so he did have to be chased around. When we're at home, we can sit down and let him have free reign, for the most part, over the living room (till he gets needy). It's a little different. I think that, just like with the first, everything happens so incrementally that you adjust in due time.

Ok, it's almost 8:30, and I am wondering why he's still asleep! Off to start the day.