NewPlew

This whole journey started out innocently enough. I was sitting at home, working away on a side project I’ve been trying to finish for the past week, when my wife opened the bathroom door of our small one-bedroom apartment and said in a distressed voice

“Shawn - you were right.”

I immediately knew something was off. It is a rare day in the Plew household that Joanna admits I’m right about anything (I’m certain this is common among those relationships fortunate enough to have lasted longer than a decade).

“Um, right about what?” I asked, my attention now drawn away from my never-ending project.

“I’m pregnant.”

It’s amazing how quickly two words can sober a person up. After a night of heavy drinking at an old friend’s bachelor party, I had yet to clear the fog from my head. Everything snapped into place when these words were uttered.

Eleven years of being together, eight years of marriage, six long years of college and postponing a family, an eternity of answering the annual gamut of “are ya pregnant yet?” inquiries from the family at holiday gatherings - it all came to a head. She’s having my baby. It’s really happening. We’re finally starting a family.

Holy shit.