Welcome Home, Baby….

We returned home from our honeymoon to the shock of a lifetime. I was pregnant. Like, for real, P-R-E-G-N-A-N-T.

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Like most newlyweds, we planned on having children. Our actual plan was to have fun the first few months before actively trying. A few of our friends had experienced technical difficulties in the procreation department so we assumed it would take us a few months as few.  WELL, how wrong we were!

Boom. I was knocked up like nobody’s business. After the initial shock, a few tears (happy tears, of course), and a good nights rest, my whole frame of thinking changed.  I was no longer living in my week-to-week scheduled life. I was suddenly planning for 5 months and, definitely, 9 months down the road. I was spending hours on Pintrest daydreaming about the perfect nursery and reading endless articles on the status of my growing Feetie (Hubs and my affectionate name for our fetus).

OBSESSED – there is no other word to describe how I felt. My world shifted. How quickly nothing else mattered.

Like a Drum, Baby, Don’t Stop Beating

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