I’ve long thought about how my writing would change once the Hubs and I were knocked up with baby number two. Will my less-desperate nature carry through in the tone of my writing and the subjects I reflect on?
I also have cherished the writing I did before Hudson was born and died, as it captures some of her personality as it developed over the 9 months I carried her, and it captures the happiness the Hubs and I experienced as we got to know our daughter. So I knew that when I got pregnant again, the writing couldn’t stop.
I just wouldn’t publish it right away.
If you’re reading this today, you are reading something that was written weeks ago, and you get to catch up with the development of Baby Dub Dos, or as the Hubs and I have newly nicknamed him/her: Bullet.
It couldn’t have happened any other way.
There were desperate days in the last 11 months… and on those desperate, low days, I would comfort myself with the thought of that day when I would take a pregnancy test and I would see a positive result and I would know that we were on the way to growing our family. I loved imagining the happiness. It brought me through.
The real deal did not disappoint.
This might sound new-age-y and weird, but I knew I was pregnant. I laid in bed last Sunday night and I couldn’t sleep and I was confident that it was because we had accomplished our mission. I was determined not to test early, not to get too excited, but I did make sure that I had a two-pack of EPTs in the house for the day that would inevitably arrive when I could find out for sure that my intuition was correct.
On June 13, I went and got my hair cut… like 6 inches cut off. I told my stylist, “There’s this weird superstitious part of me that is thinking, the last time I got pregnant I had short hair…” a statement which got a few laughs because it is truly ridiculous.
I was planning to head up to see the Hubs in Yakima that night, and I had to run home after the hair cut appointment to grab a few things, and I thought to myself, “There’s this two-pack of EPTs…”
And as I peed on that stick I was thinking, as I’ve thought many times before (I’ve probably peed on at least $100 worth of pregnancy tests in the last 11 months), “This could be the day that I get that feeling…”
And this day, I knew it was true.
I forced myself to keep my eyes off the test for at least one minute (it required two), and then I just happened to glance and it was a plus sign.
A plus sign, dammit.
This time I did not drop a single eff bomb. I laughed and I cried and it was almost as awesome as I’d imagined it. The only thing that would have made it more awesome was if the Hubs had been there to laugh and cry with me.
We’ve been talking about how we would break the news to our family and friends when Baby Dub Dos aka Bullet made their first appearance. It was determined that our homebrew hobby would be the vehicle for the news, and we would present people with bottles of Conception IPA. So, I made an impromptu label, slapped it on a bottle of our latest batch, and headed up to Yakima to break the news to the Big Bear.
That part was just as awesome as I’d imagined it, too.
And as predicted, This changes everything… again.
The back label reads:
After months of anticipation, the Dubs are pleased to announce the release of their latest batch of “homebrew”… Conception IPA!
Enjoy the heady aromas of long-awaited good news.
Savor the flavor of a mission accomplished… most likely in a trailer park.
A full body can be expected…
Alcohol: 0% for the next 9 months