The First Indicator

We knew there was a chance that there could be a bun in this oven, but it was too early to tell, and it was Christmas.  There were 1,005 distractions to occupy my mind and movies on TV that kept me from thinking at night.  After 6 months of not really "trying" but not not trying, we had learned only get a little excited at the possibility.

"Expanded!  Just like your frogs expand!  Don't you frogs expand?"

The first indicator (I didn't know it then) that something was awry, were some  gastro-intestinal changes.  I started having to find excuses to leave the room  A few trips to the car, a quick run to the kitchen to some water, looking for a lost sock.  Farts. On. Parade.

My insides expanded(like a frog-see photo) and ached.  They made terrible noises of anger and hostility. 

This new change in my body, only told my brain, "Hey. Something is different here.  Maybe don't put cheese on everything?"  Each day I adjusted the food intake, 3 Christmas cookies instead of 5, something from a category other than the top or bottom sections of the food pyramid, but each night, the parade returned.  

There was never a moment of clarity, like "Aha!  I am pregnant." No foretelling dream.  No sudden cravings.  Not even lucky enough to be graced with a morning spew session.  Just Farts.   Then the that all-telling, late lady business. About a week later, a pee test gave me the pink plus sign and we were off and running.

When I think about this child I am joyful for so many reasons.  In particular, that this miracle of life decided to announce its presence on the planet with a parade of farts.  Not only is this litte bean the result of my husband and I's ridiculous love for each other, but this child announced it's presence on this planet with our humor.  It went for the third grade laugh, that my husband is a master of, and let me know it is here.  I know that this kid is ours.