February 9 ~ By this time, I "knew" it was true. The nausea had kicked in full force, and my breasts were so sore I woke when I rolled over in bed. I was so tired I could barely move. I told Peter that I thought I "might be" (there was a fortune cookie incident involved, but I won't even go there). He wanted me to find out for sure. I fought using the test I'd bought for three more days. Then, at his urging, I used the test and left it on the sink without looking at the results. He went into the bathroom and came back asking, "What do TWO lines mean?" Of course, he knew that it meant positive, but I was acting so strangely that he didn't know how else to tell me.
Oddly enough, I spent the next several hours crying as Peter held me. I suddenly felt SO old and had a million reasons why it was a bad idea to have another baby! I don't know who was more confused, me or Peter.