Some time last year, I got an idea into my head. As most people who know me know, we were VERY decided that we were not going to have kids. Nope, not us. No thank you. But then, I started to approach 35. I am here in France, with health coverage, and an idea came to me. So, one night as we were laying in bed, I mentioned to Robbie "Maybe we could think about possibly thinking about maybe having a baby in like 3 years...." Well, that went over like a ton of bricks! There was a big huff and puff discussion endimg in a near heated discussion, so I let it rest and went to bed. 3 days later, same situation, sitting in bed. Robbie looks at me and says "Right, so we will get you pregnant in April and have the baby in the beginning of 2013....." WHAT?! So I go from possibly being divorced, to being told when I will actually conceive? Who are you and what did you do with my husband?
Apparently, after some careful consideration, Robbie had come to a few conclusions. And it looks like it was all systems go for operation Baby Dever in the spring. I was so excited! The idea is so fun. We would talk about all the things we would do. All the things we need to get ready. Where we would want to live, in Paris of course. The time seemed to pass so slowly. Let's get to this baby making business!
Then along comes April. I have an app for tracking my periods on my phone and it also tells me when I'm fertile and when I'm ovulating. So using this as our guide, we set to "work." We did all the things you are supposed to do and then waited. We even did things you don't need to do. Such as go to the cemetarie Pere Lachaise and visit the grave of one Victor Noir. Now, I don't remember the story as to why, but the statue on his grave marker is said to help women who are trying to have a baby. You rub his member for fertility and then rub his feet for .... I don't know, but I just did it, as pictured below.
So May comes. Perfect timing, our wedding anniversary falls during the week of fun. We take no prisoners and step up our game a bit this time. I go buy a proper necklace for the charm my aunt gives me. I tell, the minut i put that chain over my head, I felt something. I am a mildly superstitious girl. I buy into those pit of your stomach type things. And when I tell you I felt something, I mean it. So, we go about this round and continue on with life. We take a long weekend and visit Barcelona. I am potentially due for my monthlies, so I stock up like it was going to be the worst. We have a blast, I let down my guard about the whole lower caffeine intake. Then I'm 2 days late, then 3. We get back to Paris, I think maybe its nerves or just readjusting to life after birth control. I go back to work on the Mona=day and end up working an 11 hour shift. I'm tired. Delirious, even. I had bought a test that morning so, at midnight, I go in to pee on the stick. That bad boy turned purple before I had even really hit it! It couldn't say positive fast enough. It was too much for me at first. I couldn't even call Robbie into the room. I was afraid if I stopped looking at it, the color would change. As if it was positive simply from the sheer force of my will. So I eventually call him in. We just look at each other. We look at the test and back at each other. Oh My God We Are Having A Baby!
At this point we don't know what to do. Who do we call? Do we call anyone? What do we do? SO, we take pictures with the test:
Then we decide to call his parents. We tell them the good news. They are delighted! We then go to bed and start to make all the plans that you do when you find out. We download the Babycenter app to find out the due date and all the fun stuff that they have to tell us about the baby growing inside of me. We get our projected due date of February 13th. So now shit just got real!
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