"You potent SOB"

We were having a baby, great! Now I had to tell the other half of this "we" that I was pregnant. I came home from the girls weekend to find my house reeking of booze and full of hung over people. Not typical, but okay. I could hardly keep it to myself, but I wanted to wait until the guests were gone to tell him. We all went to lunch and I kept grinning at Brad like a moron, even though he was balls deep in a basket of hot wings, so he didn't pay much attention. I thought of all these brilliant ways to tell him, but I just ended up telling him I wanted to show him something and brought him into the bedroom. He barely got through the door before I whipped out the pregnancy test (he probably wished I had whipped other things out) and said I was pregnant. His response? "That's awesome!"

I was estatic, elated, all of the other obnoxious words, and I did the only logical thing a woman who is growing a tiny human would do. I Googled. I Googled "Percentage of False Positives" and the first response was "If you are using a shitty pregnancy test you got out of a podunk store that's probably expired and the test "X" isn't dead on center, you are a small percentage of false positives, you dumbass". Really, those were the exact words, more or less. Or not. So of course, I freak out, thinking I peed on the only expired, prehistoric inaccurate stick created and had to go and buy another one. I wanted to wait for the next morning to try, but patience was never one of my strong suits. A second one confirmed it, but yet, I Googled again. I decided to just go to the doctor to make sure.

I made the appointment and everything was good. Until I began having some complications. The clinic agreed I could come in the next day or wait until my appointment later in the week. I opted to wait.

My husband and I went to the appointment and was told that I could have an ultrasound. We were going to celebrate our first appointment by going out to eat at a nice restaurant. As a joke, Brad said if it was 1 baby, we could go to the nice restaurant, Victorias. If it was twins, we were going to Fazoli's. As I walked into the room, I had immediate visions of the belly scan and all of the warm and nervous feelings to accompany. Then the tech told me to drop trou. I thought that was odd but complied. Then I saw the huge "wand" the tech was getting ready and HOLY SHIT WHERE IS THAT GOING? I won't describe it any further for those that are men or that are squimish, but I can tell you that normally, for what the tech did, she would've had to buy me at least a 6 pack Mike's Hard Lemonades. Anyway, we were looking up at the screen and I was busy making sure there was actually a baby in there, because, of course, I Googled phantom pregancies. The tech said, "There is your baby and there's it's heart". She continued, "And when you turn it this way, there's the other one". Uh, I asked her "the other one what?" "The other baby. It looks like you're having twins, congratulations!"

My first thought was "Holy Lord, Brad put two of 'em in there" and the second thought was "I guess we're going to Fazoli's".