It was a big day. Actually, it was a big night. A very big night. We talked long into it. We held hands. We sat in the dark and listened to our own thoughts. Sometimes we shared those thoughts outloud. And suprisingly enough when I told him he didn't die of immediate heart failure. I'm worried that it may be coming later next week. But out of it all, we're both excited.
I shouldn't be saying this, but I can't help myself and I've already told mom and dad and everyone close that needs to be told.
We're pregnant. Around 8-9 wks along.
Holy shit, eh?
Yes. Holy Shit. When Peter left this morning he said Have a good day, Mom. He meant me. How cool is that??