Two Pink Lines

I'm pregnant!??!  Nothing quite prepares you for feeling those words, saying those words, or reading the test that says those words.  It was not what I was anticipating at all Tuesday.  

I had just gotten back from a wonderful two week trip backpacking across Italy, and touching on Paris and London.  All along, my friend thought I should take a test when I returned home because everything smelt awful while we were there.  I stepped out of our sleeper car on the train and I swear someone completely wrecked the inside of the toilet.  Instantly, I wanted to ralph into my shoe.  

It slowly became clear that any sewage in Italy made me want to hurl…even my own.  Of course, Abbey thought I was crazy the whole trip, "I can't smell anything, you're nuts…or pregnant."  And I would simply reply, "you're nuts for not smelling it!"  

So, Tuesday, the morning after we returned, I was up and had a test available so I thought I'd just get her voice out of my head and do the deed.  I peed. I sat it on the back of the toilet.  I wiped.  Before I even got to flush, that sucker was blasting two neon pink lines in my face.  Shit.  

No way.  Not real.  I looked at the test again.  Maybe I read that wrong, two pink lines means "not" pregnant, right?  No.  Well, crap.  "Derek, can you get in here right now please?" meekly came out of my mouth.  His reply, "What, is there a spider in there?"  Ha, if only.  

He opened the door and I just pointed at the test tossed onto the counter.  "What?"  I pointed again at the test tossed onto the counter.  "Oh, huh, OH!"  There it was.  He hugged me and smiled so big.  I couldn't handle it. "I don't know how we're going to do this.  This was not my plan yet!"  And he replied only how a wonderful husband would,  "we'll figure it out."