Two red lines

So as I idled awayed my TA hours this morning, I looked and realized that I have indeed made my 12 week mark and that it is 12 and not 14 that marks the end of your first trimester so I guess I can go ahead and make it public: I (Rachel) am pregnant.

So Stephen and I had been pretty baby hungry for a while, and I was convinced that I would be like my namesake in the Bible and have to wait years and years to have chidren. Looking back, my fears were not really justified, but what fears are, eh?

Anyway, back before we knew my sister had informed us that dollar store pregnancy tests were available. I had gone through at least 7 already in our 5 months of marriage (even though I was sure I would never have kids, I also always thought I was pregnant as well). When once again I tried to convince Stephen I was pregnant and that we should buy some tests, he said "no let's wait another week, these tests might just be a dollar, but you take them so often they add up." Granted I had taken one a week earlier and gotten a negative, but still. I made a deal. If we bought one, and I wasn't pregnant, I would rub his back for 20 minutes. If I was, he'd have to do mine. When it came to testing, I couldn't bare to look at the usual one line that stared me back. Instead I made him look and I ran into the bedroom. He waited a second, and then came in and said "well, it looks like I owe you a backrub."

I'm 12 weeks, we're due December 1st. This happens to have been the exact due date for my mother's first two kids as well. Seeing that my birthday's November 27th, perhaps I could have a birthday suprise.