I still haven't called S or anyone else. I am enjoying this private moment with my baby girl.
Then, reality check. My "Fuel" light goes on. The spell is broken.
I hate getting gas. Reluctantly, I pull in to the gas station and call S while I am filling my tank.
"We are all clear. There are no indicators for diseases. No Down's, Edwards or Patua. No indicators of Cystic Fibrosis. It's healthy and growing."
He is relieved. "What is it?"
I pause. I am not telling him on the phone.
"Listen, I can't tell you on the phone. One day, shortie will ask you how you learned it was an "boy/girl" and if your reply is "mom called me from the gas station" we suck. I'll come by after work."
"Where are you?"
"Literally, at the gas station. Then, I am picking up something for you and going to work."
"When will you be there?"
"Fine. I will see you there."
Okay. I stop at the bakery. I don't know if he likes chocolate or vanilla so I get both. I hit every red light on the way to work. I get nervous that he wants a boy. I am anxious that I am going to make him late for his lunch meeting. I am annoyed that I am worried about his reaction.
I park. I gather my stuff and he is beelining toward me. We hug and detour to the picnic tables. He is shaking. I hand him the cupcakes. He looks at me like I am insane.
"You want me to eat a cupcake? Now?"
He's a trooper. He breaks in to it and finds the pink. His face is the most beautiful collage of surprise, sweetness, acceptance, reality and love.
We sit for a few minute, then go our separate ways.
My day is a whirlwind. I tell a few people and everyone is pumped. Turns out, people love babies, and pregnancy. No one asks for details.
After work, I go to yoga and am excited for my last few solo days at home.
I'm watching "Jane the Virgin" when S calls. I'm surprised and obviously pick up.
He is on fire. He is excited (and a little drunk). He called his mom to schedule a lunch with her this weekend and ended up telling her. This morphed into telling his dad and a family text chain that ended with me joining them for Christmas Eve dinner.
I take this in. Obviously, I am excited and happy. I am also nervous. For some dumb-ass reason, I think that there is something is wrong with me because my parents are dead.
I shake that off and focus on what is right. She will have grandparents! This is amazing. I never had grandparents and I want this for my (eeek!) daughter.
We hang up and I throw down hundreds on Ann Taylor for a buffet of Christmas Eve dresses.