Backstory: How Far Along Am I? Seriously

If you have no interest in yucky things like menstrual cycles and ovulation and conception dates and sexy times, then you can just go ahead and skip this post. But if you're a mama, or gonna be a mama, or fear being a mama, these are things that matter! So don't be squeamish.

The original due date was May 23. That's what I painstakingly stitched onto a little white onesie which I mailed to my mama and listened to her open and cry about over the phone. And now mom can just dump that sucker in the trash for all it's worth (she NEVER would!)--we have a new due date!

June 8th.

I don't believe it.

See folks, Cara's "little monthly friend," her "Aunt Flo," her "Uncle T.O.M." if you will, was very very dependable. She was even in a U of M study once where she had to chart her ovulation every month, and lo and behold, it came on Day 14. That's 14 days after TOM arrives. Like clockwork, ov-day came on exactly day 14.

One can only become pregnant from intercourse within, oh, 5 days before or after ov-day. Ish. I guess it depends.

And that means a June 8th due date would have a corresponding Day O' Conception of... two days before the next visit from TOM. Day 28. Apparently I ovulated a full TWO WEEKS LATE.

And I am like clockwork! Can I not trust my body?! Have I been BETRAYED?!?!? FOOLED?! Are my ovaries laughing at me, snickering to each other about how I never saw it coming?! How am I supposed to be surviving on Natural Family Planning methods if my Very Reliable Cycle is going to go all crazypants on me???

I just don't believe it. Not when we had a Silly Accidental Slip approximately 2 weeks and 3 days prior (around Day 11). In case you wanted to know way too much about our "special times together," congrats.

So we can chalk this baby situation* up to 1) Me being dumb and not noticing we were in the danger zone, or 2) My body crapping out on me. Hmmmmmm...

June 8th actually sounds like an okay due date! Woo!

* For clarification, I don't mean "situation" in a bad way, like I've gotten myself "in trouble" 1950's-style. We are SO excited about this baby and we already love it to pieces! Hurrah for baby!

Backstory: Boy Meets Girl... Sperm Meets Egg?!?!?!

I was just your average spunky recently post-college twenty-something, bumbling through this world with Bridget Jones' Diary as my main textbook. With less sex (a good thing), and less hunky British men (a sad thing). After getting a biology degree and discovering that such a thing will in no sense get me a job I might enjoy, I decided to take a year off and then try for grad school or something. So! I did AmeriCorps. It was fabulous. I helped people with disabilities get jobs, and on the side I helped plan events for the AmeriCorps folks.

I was running a picnic with speakers, bands, food, etc. It all went very well and then there was a disaster which, kindly, a certain bass player from one of the bands helped to mend. A certain tall, handsome, blues-playing, history-spouting musician with blue eyes and a deep voice. Mmmmmm. Fast forward about a year, and we were married! Hurrah!

Fast forward another... well... three months. Yep. That's right. We made it three months. I first suspected when I found myself buying a gallon of milk. I do not drink milk. So this was weird... I know that seems like a silly reason, but we were also trying out these Cycle Beads that my sister got me for my bachelorette party once I decided not to use hormonal birth control and it turns out we sort accidentally veered into the "white beads," aka the no-no time. So I SUSPECTED.

Also my hubby had a dream that I gave birth to a litter of kittens. Take from that what you will.

So I went over the the neighborhood Target, and took a hpt right then and there. And I THOUGHT I saw a sort of tiny bit of a blue line. I also had a bit of spotting, which I thought could indicate implantation bleeding. I wandered around, trying to comprehend the possibility--and I ended up bursting into tears in the condiments aisle. I was right next to the peanut butter, crying. I was NOT ready to have a baby! Sheesh! I'm only 24, for heaven's sake!

But Alex (the husband) told me not to jump to conclusions, and wait another week or so and take another test. Right. I probably took about 10 tests over the next two weeks. All negative. Phew. I even went to a doctor and he just gave a another hpt (waste of time) and told me no, it would definitely be positive by now if I were pregnant. So I called Alex and told him, and he said, that's good, right?

And I started crying again! I had gotten all excited after I calmed myself down, and I was thinking about our pretty little baby, and I was just sad!<

And then the time for my next Aunt Flo came... and went... and again, I was going crazy! Was it a psychological pregnancy? Was I just late from the stress of it all? I NEEDED ANSWERS!

More hpts. More waiting. And then, was that... could it be... a faint line?!? I called up my BFF Elizabeth and we met for an emergency summit at Barnes & Noble to scrutinize that little line. Or non-line? Elizabeth assured me I wasn't crazy, I was seeing something... but it wasn't strong or solid at all. I would just have to wait another day or two.

The next morning, I took two types of hpts--one with a line and and electric ClearBlue Easy thing. The line was faint but certain. And the electric test? Those don't come up faint. It blinked and blinked and declared, "PREGNANT!" (the exclamation point may be my addition).

Apparently my man is quite potent! Or I'm very fertile. Or it was a lightning bolt from God. We're having a baby!!! Hurrah! The babyventure begins!