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Chapter One: from feminist to stereotypical bride

16 Dec

I really do think it’s important that I tell all of this. So hang in there with me, ok?

I met my future husband in January of 2008. I was 28. I had never really thought of marriage and kids. I mean, I did – but never in a real and urgent sense.

Something about him though – well, he made me become very domestic. I started really enjoying doing things like baking cookies.

Now mind you, before that, I was pretty much a careerist biyatch. No judging, it’s just what I was.

he moved in rather quickly and in October of 2009 in a very cutely romantic way he proposed.

At that point, I admit, I was already going through the baby-crazies. He was a bit more timid about it – but hey – who asks guys about this stuff anyway?

I spent six month carefully planning out our wedding, which was a casual, fun and really – amazing night. Best night of my life. On May 27th, 2010 I became Mrs. XXX XXX. Something I admit is still kind of weird. the feminist taking on her husband’s last name. Go figure.

A month earlier we had decided to officially lose the birth control, and on our lovely 10 day honeymoon – well – we worked hard at making babies.

On day 4 of our honeymoon, a rather lovely food laden cruise, I woke up feeling kind of weird. We disembarked at Valletta, Malta – and the first thing I did was drag my brand spanking new husband to a pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. I felt pregnant. I just did.

So we bought one, and after a lovely day in Malta I peed on the stick. Negative. Ahh well. At that point I told my husband that there will be no more peeing on sticks without evidence of a late period! (that statement would soon be broken on a gargantuan level).

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