That's how it started. We hadn't really been trying, and I didn't have any reason to believe I was pregnant. But M was convinced, based on the fact that I was a little late (not entirely unheard of at the time) and a couple dizzy, nauseated moments. So when I declined to agree with him, he bet me $10, and I took it on.
Three days later, on Sunday December 10th, 2006, I asked him if he wanted me to ruin his life that particular night or wait a few more days. I think he nearly barfed. But in the end we decided I'd go ahead and take the test. I dutifully peed on the little stick while he put food on the grill. Clearly it was one of our tenderest moments. I turned it over so I couldn't see the results and walked out, only to send him back in to find out what it was.
"You owe me $10. And I told you so." Or something to that effect. I'm not sure we said much else for the rest of the night. You find out your entire life just changed, and somehow there's nothing to say.
And that is how it started.
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