It's national "Get Knocked Up" month, are you in?


OK, well we might as well start off with the big news: I'm knocked up. That's right. Pregnant. Yeah. Crazy.

I found out in Dresden. For some reason, I was convinced that I was not pregnant. Leo kept bugging me to buy a test, but I was absolutely convinced that I didn't need it. That is, until I was getting dressed one morning and wondered out loud how all of my bras could have shrunk. I briefly thought that I might be going through some sort of tier 2 puberty that hits at age 30. Then I thought of the only logical reason that this could be happening.

So I broke out the German-English dictionary (thanks, Davidde, for letting me borrow it, it really was a lifesaver!) and I set off to buy a Schwangerschafttest. Once I got the test (an adventure in itself), I settled down to a good hour of translating the instructions word by word. And then, the moment of truth...I took the test. I got two lines immediately. I knew that I was supposed to wait three minutes, so I was thinking that maybe one line would disappear soon. It didn't. I sat on the bed of the horrible drippy-penis-stick-figure hotel and I felt like I was in an elevator that was descending too quickly.

I spent the next 3 or 4 hours alternately translating the rest of the package insert looking for a loophole and sitting back and saying "Noooo. Really? Noooo. Really?" I didn't say it in a scared way, just more like I had just been told that my parents are really aliens from the planet Gizbok. Total disbelief. If I had been home, I hope Leo would have soap opera slapped me to get me out of this loop. Instead, I was in a foreign city where I couldn't even make a call to my husband to let him know (I could actually call, but I could only call from the front desk phone with a front desk person breathing down my neck). The drippy-penis-stick-figures were mocking me. And CNN international edition was no comfort.

Luckily the rest of the trip flew by. I can smell EVERYTHING so I had a little foreign fun with that. For example, I went into a place in Dresden that was described as "the most beautiful shop for milk products in the world". They sold cheese. Lots and lots of really stinky cheese. I nearly hurled upon entry. And then there was that cafeteria food which I can't even think of without feeling queasy. Thank God I made it through.

Nothing too terribly eventful has happened since, baby-wise that is. The midwife won't see me until I'm at least 8 weeks along, and that's next week. I think I'm due on March 5 (the day of Kevin's wedding). The baby is currently 9mm long, the size of a bean, swimming around in my innards. So now that we have taken the plunge, it is high time for the rest of you to get your acts together and join me.

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