PREGNANT

Nathan and I have been sleeping together for about a month and a half. Alot.

What if ...?

No. It can’t be.

But what if I’m...?

The thought is terrifying and wonderful at the same time.

I log out of my workstation and head down to the lobby, in search of a pregnancy test.

An hour later,I’m standing over the sink in the work bathroom, staring at a pregnancy test.

It’s positive. I’m pregnant.

I’m pregnant with Nathan’s kid.

I also know, due to some frantic googling while I waited for the test to finish processing, that eating too much grapefruit can interfere with certain types of hormonal birth control.

They really should put that on the label.

Nathan’s going to laugh when he hears that.

At least I hope he’ll laugh.

What if he doesn’t want this kid?

Because I do. I realize that as I’m staring down at the positive test. With the exception of moving to New York, I’ve always tried to do things in the sensible order.

Don’t leave a job, unless you have another one lined up.

Don’t start datin