Where to start ... we have some news!

So, I found out I was pregnant as soon as we returned from vacation, and I freaked! Who to tell? When? How are we possibly going to be parents?!??! (Still wondering that last question, actually). I wrote some blog entries about it, but then I sat on them because the news wasn't public yet.

But ... here's one of those entries! (I wrote this June 2, am now publishing on Aug. 21). How the time flies! I'll have to really hop to it -- I'll be 25 weeks pregz tomorrow, and have some real catching up to do! I want to talk about all of it: what I've been eating, buying, etc. How we've been preparing ... so much to say! Anyway, a throwback entry:

--------

The last time I blogged was April 13.

It is now June 2.

So much has changed! Let's rewind.

I blogged about vacation (in a seven-part series, because of course), and that was really fun to re-live. We unpacked, and went back to work, and I even hit up the workout room in our apartment complex in hopes of toning up after all the wine and delicious food we consumed along the coast.

In fact, it was my first day back at the workout room that I felt something was off. I put in some serious WERK, running like, 3-4 miles at a pretty good clip, lifting weights, riding the bike for 45 minutes to heal my knee (a never-ending process), etc. And then I just hurt. I mean, sure, it was a decently hard workout for someone who's coming back from vaycay, but it wasn't TOO out of the ordinary for me. I go hard in the paint on a pretty regs basis. But there I was, showered and back on the couch an hour later, just like ... exhausted. My hips hurt. I felt like I had been hit with a shovel. I felt like I just completed an IronMan or some shit. Because I know what that feels like. Nottttt.

Anyway, so when I looked at the sitch the next day -- mother of God was I still sore and exhausted, in a truly frightening way -- and I paired it with the fact that my period had been a bit ... irregular/MIA this month, I decided something might be up with my bod. I bought a pregz test on my lunch break, just to rule out a fetus first and foremost. I made the purch, went back to work and promptly forgot about it, then rediscovered the test in my bag as I unloaded my purse around 9 p.m. that night (a Friday).

I was in the mood for Taco Bell and a Parenthood binge -- it had been a long week! So I figured, I'd knock the test out, learn I wasn't pregz, then go try one of those sriracha burrito-crunchwrap-quesadilla-monstrosities and truly kick back.

I peed in a teeny cup -- probably something I had in my cupboard to use for Jello or pudding shots -- and I dipped the pee-stick in, waiting for it to absorb, and then re-capped it and set it flat on my bathroom counter. It was supposed to take 2 minutes to yield a result. I waited.

It took all of 30 seconds to beep, and the word "pregnant" flashed across the screen. (Yeah, I didn't do any of that plus/minus sign BS, I wanted the WORDS). My heart was suddenly in my throat. Pregnant? I knew a couple people who were like, actively trying to get pregnant who were struggling with it. I know people who don't even have anything physically wrong, who it still took like, a year for them to conceive. How could I be pregnant?

I called BS. People get false positives all the time, right? Good thing I peed in that Jello shot container, and still had some leftover for round two.

I dipped the second stick in and got the results back just as fast. Pregnant.

My night of Taco Bell and Netflix was definitely on hold. Suddenly I felt really cold. Then hot. Then just nervous. I have a baby growing inside me, right now? Right this second? What about the wine I just drank on the North Coast or the workout I pounded out the other day? I didn't hurt the baby, did it? How could I have known?

I wrapped myself in a blanket on my bed and shivered there, half paying attention to Modern Family reruns, until James got home from work around 12:30 in the morning.

He came right into the bedroom, took off his belt as he started changing clothes, and asked about my day. And he could definitely see within the moment we locked eyes that something was up. "Are ... you OK?"

"Um yeah no bigs it's just that I'm pregnant and I'm panicking a little and I know we said we'd be together for life anyway but like I'M PREGNANT NOW and I'm nervous and I don't know what to do and I don't know how to have a baby and I didn't even get Taco Bell and I just needed to tell you but I didn't want to call you at work, I'd rather tell you in person and I'm just so scared!"

Word vomit.

I mean, I was excited, don't get me wrong! I've always wanted a baby. But ... the timing had me really freaked.

But he was the sweetest Jimmy I've ever known. He told me to stand up, and wouldn't accept no for an answer, and he gave me the longest squeeze of all time. He was so happy! Tears glistened in his eyes. I was so relieved. I was happy too! All of a sudden it just hit me. (I hadn't even texted or called my mom, Candace, Rach or Natalie). But like, we were having a baby.

We!

Were HAVING. A baby! Are having a baby! He loves it! I love it!

We stayed up probably two or three more hours, just lounging in bed, Jimmer petting my hair, talking about it. All of it. Baby names, whether we'd want to learn the sex, how we'd tell our families, how we'd need to start buying more veggies, schedule doctors appointments ... everything. I felt so much better, the minute I was reminded of what a great life partner I have. (How could I even forget?) I showed him my pee sticks, we shed a few tears and decided things happen for a reason. I was over the moon.

I texted Candace and Natalie the next day. Called my mom that night. For some reason, I was really nervous to tell my parents. I had them both on speaker and blurted it out on the car ride home from an evening grocery-shopping trip. Why was I so scared again? They're the best.

I'm always so surprised when the people in my life are so loving and supportive. But I shouldn't be surprised, ever. I have the best friends and family anyone could ask for. Cliche thing to say, but in this case, TRUE.

Other than those four, I swore James to secrecy -- and everyone else, too. I wanted to call Rachael and my grandma and a million more relatives, but I was nervous. It was early and my mom miscarried several times. I didn't want to tell too many people before the 12th week.

HARDEST SECRET I'VE EVER HELD.