*in a sing song voice* I'm TERR-IFIED!

K, so I haven't written in a while. Nothing interesting of any note, trust me.

Then, horror of blessed horrors, I find out that I'm preggo.

Knocked up.

Damaged goods.

Tin roof. Rusted.

It's GOOD! It really is good, but damn, I don't think I'm ready. I mean, I'm ready, but I'll never really be ready, right?

So I sit here, almost 8 weeks gone. Terrified. Scared pooh-less.

MH is so very, very supportive. He thinks it's soon too, but hey, we're married, it will never ever be the best time to do this, there will always be something. He has barely let me out of his sight since I told him, two weeks ago. We told all of the various parents on Christmas Eve and Day, to various amounts of success. Mum was thrilled, wailing like a Jewish bubbie in the kitchen. Dad and Step-Mum were less so, but attempted to look happy. MIL and FIL were thrilled but less than we thought they would be, as they had been pushing us since the hour after our wedding to have kids.

So, that's it in a nutshell. I'm happy, pukey, and general shit-scared. Good times.