It involved a lot of contemplation.
And, um, that thing that is required to plant a peanut.
Actually, that was more of a one shot deal.
But I don’t want to scare you away on the first day.
Like gardening, there was an interminable wait between the planting and the first seed sightings.
And then there was a test at the end of the interminable 10 day wait that I was completely and inadequately prepared for.
It went something like this:
Go to sleep the night before, dreaming of pretty pink lines and perfect little peanuts.
I had a unsettlingly vivid dream that I took THE test and it was positive.
So I did what every neurotic mama-in-training would do and hopped out of bed at approximately 3:13 am and peed on a stick.
It was negative.
I went back to bed and prepped myself for a retest in two days.
Except when I woke up the next day (or next hours, rather) there was the faintest of faint lines.
That can’t be right.
I’ll just tuck that away and leave it for later.
But then I proceeded to feed my neurosis and stalked the internet for answers. Surely it was an “evap” line and not a true positive result. After all, it was still five days before my expected and HIGHLY irregular friend.
Day two and the pink lines reappeared.
On day three, I couldn’t deny it.
That is to say, the third, fourth, and fifth tests couldn’t deny it.
There was a peanut in the pod!
I still didn’t believe it.
A trip to the doctor resulted in a trip to Target while I waited for THE results phone call.
$150 dollars later I had new sheets, new pillow cases, clothes that will be too small too soon, and a confirmed peanut in the pod.
$12.oo after that I had the onesie that would serve as the announcement of the impending peanut to the peanut planter.
When I got home, I noticed there was a box of pregnancy tests on the dresser.
Does he already know?
Did he find the SIX positive tests?
Is the surprised ruined?
Turns out the peanut planter was just preparing for the test that he thought I would need to take “soon.”
I took out the set of onesies adorned with a dalmation pup, firetrucks (just like the one Dad drives!), and my favorite.
I balled the onesie up and tucked it in close to my tummy.
I went to the kitchen, the room where I feel the most at home, and tried to contain my gigantic grin.
“Hey, guess what?” I called.
“What?” he responded nonchalantly.
I tossed him the onesie and said
“I made you a Peanut Bodnar!”
There was confusion.
And then tears.
I don’t really know what happened after that because I was really, really busy trying to not to cry.
And making a human apparently!