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How Did You Find Out?

My narcissistic daughter loves looking at pictures of herself. Earlier this week she got out one of the scrapbooks. The first page features a used EPT stick. "What's that?" she asked. "Oh, that's just something your mother peed on and decided to keep sealed behind velum forever," I thought to myself. "That's just a stick, honey," I said. "Let's see what else we can find." She accepted my non-explanation and turned the page. I, however, was still thinking about that stick.

When we first suspected that my wife was pregnant, we got one of those over-the-counter pregnancy tests. I remember sitting on the bed while she was in the bathroom. I also remember floating on the ceiling and watching myself sitting on the bed, which I believe is what they call an "out-of-body experience." She returned from the bathroom with the used test and a puzzled expression.

"That looks blue, right?" she asked, handing it to me. "Well...yeah," I said. "I mean, I think it does. Sure. Yes...right?" Here were two grown people, one of whom holds a master's degree, suddenly unsure if we had ever seen blue before. "It's not supposed to get bluer than that, is it?" I asked. She examined the box while I read the printed instructions. There had to be a color wheel or a Pantone chart or something that would tell us exactly what to look for: Robin's Egg — Pregnant; Indigo — False Alarm; and Azure — Partly Cloudy Skies with a 30 Percent Chance of Rain.

We bought three more tests from the drugstore ($20 each!). Later that evening, at my sister's wedding reception, we were dancing with a roomful of people who had no idea that we had just left sixty dollars' worth of Robin's Egg Blue in a hotel bathroom.

When we were pregnant for the second time, my wife surprised me with a wrapped present. "Wow," I said. "It's amazing what you have to go through to serve divorce papers."

"Just open it," she said. Inside, there was a tiny blue jumper, hat and socks. William was on the way.

While I'll never forget that deer-in-the-headlights moment in the hotel, I really enjoyed the thoughtful surprise that announced our second. Since then, I've heard of other women telling their husbands/partners/parents/in-laws, etc. in clever ways, such as hiding an ultrasound snapshot in a briefcase, or vomiting uncontrollably every morning for about a month. All of this has got me wondering: What's your story? How did you break the news? Share your tale in the comment section below.

As Grace and I looked at the photos, I reflected on how lucky I am to have the two of them, how exciting it was to confirm my wife's pregnancies and how, God willing, we'll never, ever do that again.

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