I guess if I'm going to do this right, I should probably start from the start.
This little bundle of looming joy wasn't supposed to happen. The evidence of that has been nestled beside the baby since the millisecond it was conceived.
A intrauterine device, or more commonly referred to as an IUD, and more loosely termed as the Other Thing with the String, is thought to be a steel-clad (or, in this case, iron) gate of pregnancy contraception. Or so we thought.
Again, to make a long story short, Jackie's IUD had been dislodged from its proper place, and in that time, the demon seed had been planted. But here's the tricky part - and the reason why it took what seemed like an eternity to spread our baby news. One of Jackie's many doctors (and I say many because I feel all women have at least three doctors they go to), noticed the goalie had left its net and repositioned the IUD without checking to see, you know, if there was a dime-sized baby in there.
Turns out there was.
Really not knowing what to think, I stopped thinking. I honestly didn't think this peanut had a hope of making it past three months. I didn't want to get my hopes up and not have this thing take place. So, for about a month, I didn't once allow myself to think about it. Well, maybe I thought about it once or twice, but I didn't think it was going to go down.
That was until our ASSIGNED ob/gyn told us that IUD babies are born all time. He confirmed that ours looked healthy and that we should start telling people. But, I needed to know a little more. I can't remember exactly what I asked, and it may have been just a look I gave him, but his answer was precisely this: "Does it suck? Yeah, it does."
Awesome. But I took more faith in what he told us before the whole situation sucking thing.
A few more ultrasounds confirmed that the IUD had shifted to the best place possible.
So, in the span of about three months, my emotional timeline looked a little like this:
The last entry on the timeline: Now we actually have to have this thing.