The best birthday present ever.

Well. Its my birthday. I'm 24. No shame in that. Next year my insurance will go down by nearly half. I can't wait. It used to be, that the night before my birthday, I wouldn't be able to sleep. I'd toss and turn, thinking about all of the exciting thing the day ahead of me might hold. But nope, not last night. Last night I think I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow. Want to know a secret?

...I'm pregnant.

So I guess my recent period post is temporarily obsolete. It still doesn't seem quite real, to be honest. Christopher and I are already blessed with an adorable 1.5 year old, Eleanore Sue. Shes an angel, that little devil (yes, that was an Alkaline Trio reference. Say hello to my half assed attempt at trying to be clever at 7 in the morning). We've been trying to get pregnant for the past 12 months, and were just about ready to take our thoughts on fertility treatment to the doctor, when we got a + instead of a - on that expensive tiny plastic test. If you've ever tried to have children, you know the aches and pains of charting your reproductive system's every move, right? You know exactly when you ovulate, right down to the minute. Your 2 week waiting period seems longer than a year, as you examine every tiny symptom wondering "does that mean I'm pregnant?". You've spent literally, over $100 (easy) on pregnancy tests in the past year, because even though you know its a waste of money, you always break down and buy a test anyways. And then every time the test comes up negative, you beat yourself up, because you know you shouldn't have bought it in the first place. Not only do you and your significant other feel the pain of not being able to conceive, but so does your check book. You promise not to buy any more tests. You're constantly feeling yourself up, because if your boobs feel sore, then you must be pregnant. They weren't sore the last time you squeezed, so next time you'll squeeze just a little bit harder. Ouch, it hurt that time! Am I pregnant yet? Your husband is sick to death of your "I think I'm pregnant this time" comments. And so are your friends and family. And you're sick of leading everyone on. And you're sick of being disappointed.

So last week, when I was just one day late, I casually say to the Mister, "Go get me a test". There was no please, because I thought he'd shoot me down. Rather than being mean about it, even though I knew it was the last thing he wanted to do on his Sunday afternoon, he said "okay", put his shoes on, and away he went. While he was gone, I guzzled a tall glass of water. By the time he got back, I had to pee so bad I almost couldn't get the wrapper off of the test in time. So I pee on the stick, set the stick on the counter, and watch it like a hawk. I don't let the slow moving blue line out of my site. Within seconds, there is a blue plus sign. I rub my eyes, because like an older lady with bifocals, my eyes refuse to focus, and I'm in desperate need of glasses. The plus sign is still there. There's a little sprinkle of pee on top of the test. Maybe that's just blurring the line so that it looks like a plus sign. I dab the fluid with toilet paper. Wow, the plus sign is still there. And its not going anywhere. I've seen at least 20 negatives in the last year, and never once has my imagination stirred up a plus sign that clearly. Whats going on? I pick up the test, walk slowly out to Christopher (who is on the computer), and set the test down on the desk beside him. ..."Is that? ....Oh. ...Wait. ...Is that?". Yes sir. It sure is. We call everyone immediately. We take another home test later in the day. Its positive. And a blood test at the base hospital the following day. Its positive. I'm pregnant.

The plan for my birthday, was to grab some of the gal pals, and get our drink on. Well with the news of my poppy seed muffin (at 4 weeks, the embryo is the size of a poppy seed. I'm 5 weeks now, and its the size of sesame seed), my birthday got lost in the mix, and this year will be another year without a celebration. Unlike much of the rest of the country, I don't have the opportunity to go out to dinner, or the option to pick up a cake at the store. I have enough food allergies to fuel an allergen free rocket. ...Yeah I'm not sure what that means either, haha. I've heard rumors of pregnant women being able to magically digest lactose when their bodies craved it. Well I've been wanting cheese so bad I think my eyes turned orange like cheddar. Last night I broke down and made the most delicious quesadilla the world has ever seen. And even though 2 hours later I got so sick I probably could have died, I didn't care, it was worth it. Best dilla ever. However, it looks like I will not be eating dairy like these miracle women I've heard so much about. Nor will I be eating any of the other things my body has said no to in the past.

From top to bottom:

-"Double Vanilla CakeCup (TM) with Confetti Sprinkles", by TheSweetSpot, $7.00.
-The first time I held Eleanore Sue after my C-section.

-"I'm so Crafty I Make People bumpersticker", by MuthaCrafter, $3.00 (I bought this).

-"Blank fitted V-NECK maternity tee - charcoal - hand made - hand dyed - ANY SIZE", by AnomalyStudios, $12.00.

-"Grilled Cheese - Yellow Invasion Photo Print", by tinkkiou, $15.00.