And counting... On June 21, 2007, we found out we were pregnant in a most usual-Vinciquerra way. It was early in the afternoon when Liz kicked open the front door to the house, bypassed the crazed beastie we affectionally call "Ginger," and made a beeline for the bathroom.
I barely blinked... Just another day, just another dramatic entrance by Liz.
Moments later, Liz emerged from the bathroom, and rushed me upstairs to the bedroom. She was giddy, and holding back a big secret, I could tell. She had something hidden behind her back, and a big smile on her face. I thought for sure it was keys to a brand new BMW...
What followed was a flood of happy screams and shrieks! We were pregnant! Or were we? What if the test was wrong? You know? Those things aren't fail proof, afterall. Of course Liz thought of this too. It's not that we're obsessive-compulsive... Okay. Yes it is. Nevertheless, Liz had the forethought to buy not one all-digtal, space-age, NASA-designed, DOD-tested home pregnancy test, but TWO.
And so after the two of us scrutinized the fine print on the instruction pamphlets that came stuffed with each test kit - in multiple languages, mind you - we confirmed by mere statistics and two positive tests that, yup, little Baby V had just begun his or her journey into this life!
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