So this is a Dad Blog. I suppose I’m a father now, though it really won’t feel that way until the kid actually comes out. That’ll be ages from now, way off next spring.

Christina and I talked everything out long ago. Obviously we weren’t going to try for kids before we got married. Then, right after our marriage, I had to go to Texas for the Army for a year and she couldn’t come with: we weren’t going to try for kids then, either. I was really excited to start for kids right after that year was over, but she sat me down and informed me that a kid too soon would jeopardize her career, and she wasn’t willing to do that, and it’s her body so she got to make that choice. She said that we could maybe start in the spring of 2016 and things would be alright. Then, last November, there was a medical emergency and she was advised not to attempt pregnancy for at least six months.

What this is all leading up to is the fact that last month was the first time we’ve ever had sex without any kind of contraception. June, per the doctor’s orders. Naturally, we waited until the first day after her period would have come, then took a pregnancy test. This was last Saturday. The first one was negative. Nothing on it. The second one, Christina said that she could see something on it, but it was just super faint and thin. I couldn’t see it. Looks like it didn’t happen this time, better luck next time. Of course, we weren’t really expecting to get pregnant on the first try; Christina’s best friend tried for a few years before she managed it. We laughed about it, and cuddled, and then went about our days.

A few hours later, the period still hadn’t arrived (mind you, this is still the first day we might have expected the period to come), and Christina was feeling a little weird, so she broke out one of the fancy, extra-sensitive, digital pregnancy tests. We’d bought those to make nice pictures with, after getting a positive result from one of the cheaper tests; they’re just too expensive to burn through every month. She calls me up to the bathroom to check it out, while its timer is still spinning. I really, really was not expecting anything from this. Then:

That says “Schwanger 1-2”. For those of you who don’t speak German, that means pregnant, for 1-2 weeks.

I was just floored. Christina’s best friend calls within minutes (how did she even know?), and they’re chatting and giggling and making happy noises, and I just kind of wander back to my computer. I’d been watching a video on Youtube, and paused when she called me upstairs to look at the test, so I just unpaused and kept watching for a little while. Default actions, you know?

Taking the test again the next day came up with another positive, and then her gynecologist confirmed it on Monday. My wife is pregnant! And now this is the biggest secret I’ve ever kept.

We’re not telling anyone, not yet at least. Up to 25% of pregnancies spontaneously abort, and 80% of those are within the first 12 weeks¹. (If you’re surprised that we immediately went out and bought and read a medical textbook, and footnote it in blog posts about the topic, you don’t know us very well.) Our families are both guaranteed to be super excited about this, with concomitant disappointment and sadness in the event of a miscarriage, and we’d just as soon spare everyone from it if possible. This means holding off on telling people until we’re clear of the danger zone.

Of course, things don’t line up perfectly. We’d already planned a trip to the US to visit my parents in August, which will be around the 11 week mark; we’re going to tell them then. Likewise, we’re going to tell Christina’s parents and her work right after we get back. That’s the plan, at least: other plans already made for this summer include hosting my teenage cousin who’s visiting Germany, starting next week². Will she notice a stack of textbooks and pregnancy how-to manuals? Maybe. If we lived in a sitcom, hiding these things would be a matter of wacky hijinks, with eventual discovery inevitable. I’m hoping that just keeping them in our bedroom out of easy view will be in real life sufficient privacy. We’ll just have to see how closely our life resembles a sitcom. Most of the time I’m all in favor of increasing that resemblance, but this time, I’d prefer not.

That’s more or less it, for now. Five days ago at this time, we were a loving couple, hoping eventually for kids, but as child-free as our peers. (Of all our friends and relations, we know exactly two families with children: my sister’s, and her best friend’s. Our peer group isn’t making replacement population.) Now, we’re not, or at least not quite. It still doesn’t feel right to think of myself as a parent before the child is born. Still, we’re both hoping, and anticipating, and attempting to plan. I’m still trying to work out exactly how I feel; it’s as though joy and anxiety have been churned to a froth. I suspect that this feeling is going to persist for a while.

Father’s day was less than one month ago. With any luck, it’ll be the last one for which I don’t qualify.