It was a Sunday, just over a year ago. I was driving myself to the pharmacy around the block, telling myself, Ali, you are nuts! You're not pregnant! What are you doing?! But with the encouragement {pestering} of my dear hubby, I was off to get a pregnancy test. It had only been 6 weeks since I had gotten off of the pill. We weren't exactly trying to get pregnant, just taking steps to get to the point where we one day might be able to pregnant. Despite my certainty that things couldn't have happened that fast, I know my body well and had a strong feeling something was different. I hadn't even had a missed period yet, hence the silly talking to myself in the car.

I got home to Bryan cooking dinner and head into the bathroom, again thinking There's no way! Three minutes later, I was double-triple-quadruple checking the test to make sure my eyes were reading it correctly. And wouldn't you know it, it said positive. I walked {more like floated} to Bryan in the kitchen and just held out the stick. Are you serious? I just stared at him. Are you joking? Is this real? I nodded. Smiles turned to happy tears turned to hugs and immense excitement. Forget about thinking about anything else that evening. All we knew was that we had a baby on the way and we couldn't have been happier!

And now she's here and more perfect than I ever could have dreamed.

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