The weekend was good: For lunch, hubby and I had a blast at an eat all you can buffet resto, spent overnight at a 5 Star hotel, had complimentary birthday cake from the hotel, watched the fireworks, took 2 preggy tests that turned out positive, watched the pyrolympics by our hotel balcony, had a wonderful and relaxing bubble bath, had another buffet at the hotel for breakfast… All in all, it was a nice weekend birthday celebration. Except for those tests. Not that they’re bad. They’re just… that. I felt not sad, not ecstatic. Just maybe a bit shocked. I can feel the paranoia setting in though. What if I miscarry? What if he/she becomes the next anti-Christ? What if he/she is evil? Or worst of all, what if the baby’s ugly?!?!
My hands were shaking when I did the tests. Hubby didn’t know I had 2 kits with me at the hotel. I thought, what better way to do the tests than in a fancy hotel bathroom? And there you go.
When I told hubby, I was shaking and he probably thought I was joking at first until I burst into tears.
Yey. Great reaction. Good thing Hubby was hubby. He was laughing at me, teasing at me while I was howling. I don’t know why. I was just howling and bawling.
Goodbye, pretty stilettos.
Hello, stretch marks. And big nose.