After a summer of traveling halfway across the world (to Cambodia) and back ALONE with a baby, then crossing the U.S. a couple of times to see some family and then move back out east, it was no wonder that I felt tired during the first couple of weeks we lived here. As the weeks turned into months, and the fatigue persisted, the thought crossed my mind, "I haven't felt this tired since... I was pregnant with Carson!" That thought was quickly pushed out of my mind, as there was no way I could be pregnant again.
And then, it became difficult to button my pants. Unfortunately, "Rick, I'm getting fat" is a pretty common declaration in our house, so he and I paid little attention to my seemingly expanding waistline. I kept exercising and, again, pushed any nagging thoughts of a possible pregnancy out of my mind.
And then finally, the day arrived in early September when something inside of me clicked, and suddently I knew why I couldn't keep my eyes open after 8:00 p.m., and why I couldn't button my pants without lying on the floor and sucking in with all my might, and why I was having a hard time producing enough milk for poor little Carson.
That day, I pushed Carson up some nice hills for the 1.5 mile jog to the library. He and I went pretty much everywhere with the jogging stroller in those days. I was excited to check out a book that I'd had on hold, and I had some items to return.
"That will be a 10 dollar late fee," the librarian demanded. I froze. 10 dollars??? After a little discussion about why on earth I owed 10 dollars for a DVD I didn't even watch and had no idea that was late, I was forced to pay the fee. As I dug in my wallet for some bills and loose change, my eyes started to fill with tears. I quickly shoved the money towards the librarian, checked out my book, and ran out of the library, trying to stifle the sobs before they all broke loose. I bent down to make sure Carson was buckled in (and to hide my wet face from public view), and suddenly, it hit me.
I was crying. Hard. Over a late fee from the library.
I had to be pregnant.
The end. Except it's really the beginning I guess, because a week later I had an ultrasound which revealed that I had actually been pregnant for nearly 3 months, without anyone bothering to let me know there was a baby growing inside of me. Now I'm 5 months pregnant, one appendix less, looking like I'm about 8 months pregnant, and we're excited to have 2 little boys who we hope and pray will be best friends. The real end.