Saying the "P" Word

Yesterday was a gorgeous day. OK, that is a late perspective. The first half of the day we had dark grey clouds with torrential downpours... But, the sun came out and the clouds scattered themselves into highlights of white over spring blue. Lovely.

I left my afternoon class and started the 15 minute walk to the metro. Suddenly, I knew it was time to call my Mom and tell her(the 3rd ultrasound did the trick). She was very very happy, and understanding of why we waited to tell her, this time. She agreed that it was good weather to get such news in, and said her walk that day would find her grinning, quietly, to herself.

I am still hesitant to say, "I am pregnant." I get a little flutter, similar to the flutter one gets in early phases of a developing relationship.

"This is my.... boyfriend, Mr. S" (internal voice- 'is it ok that I said that?')
"This is my... fiance, Mr. S" (wow, butterfly city)
"I am engaged." (holy moly, is this happening?)

The first time I heard the words 'husband' and 'wife' used about us in normal conversation, I was floored.

I used to think labels were unimportant. I still believe we give them what weight we want, we choose their power.

But this one, one we worked 3+ years, thousands of dollars, thousands of tears and hundreds of injections for is still giving me shivers.