Fast forward 10 hours and one fitful night of sleep and I was waking up extra early ready to take care of business with a very full bladder. (That should've been my first sign.) I could go into a detailed description of the next five minutes but you know the drill, and if you don't, someday you will. I also won't follow through with a description of my feelings at this time of shock because a.) there are some moments that the English language is just not able to do justice and b.) there are some moments that had best remain in my memory only.
Jon was working nights that month and so was sleeping in until late afternoon. I had about 4 hours to kill between one positive pregnancy test and sharing the news with my husband and baby-father. And so the next few hours were spent picking out maternity clothes and crib bedding online.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, I had to share the news with Jon, awake or not. I cooked up a delicious breakfast of coffee, juice and pancakes cut out to spell D-A-D, and took it up to the bedroom. I'd like to insert here that I have never before made Jon breakfast in bed, and probably will never do so again. Sleepy-Jon was not impressed with my love offering. He rolled over and proceeded to fall back asleep. I shook him again, "No, really honey, I made you breakfast. You have to eat it now" and I whisked off the napkin so that Dad-pancake was staring him in the face. He blinked, he blinked again, trying to force the image through his groggy brain. Then he looked at me and said, "Are you serious?" More blinks. "Yup ... we're having a baby!" And so began our transformational journey into parenthood.