News. ::Deep breath:: News.

So.  So so so.  It would seem that, once again, I have gotten myself all pregnant.  If you are a supremely observant person and have noticed that I have used the word "again", or you have read this blog for more than 3 weeks, or you are a member of my immediate family,  you will have come to the knowledge that this is not my FIRST pregnancy.  And you have some questions.  So here are your answers.

Third.

About 6 weeks.

Mid-November.

3 1/2 years, and 11 months, respectively.

18 1/2 months.

No, we were not.

3 or 4, but eventually.  Maybe in another year from now.

Math is hard.  I know it because I can see it in people's eyes when they slyly try to calculate when I am due, how old my son is, and what that spread looks like.  It's not a very big spread, I'm the first to admit to that.  It's the kind of spread that has me thinking oh holy hang gliders, I'm becoming one of those crazy people that pops out new offsprings every five minutes or so.  THEY SHOULD GET ME MY OWN SHOW ON TLC.  But I've seen other people do it, and none of them look like they want to kill themselves, so I'm feeling pretty confident.

Now we get to the fun part.  The How We Found Out About It part.

I was depressed.  Like, nobodylovesmeandmaybeIshouldjustgoDIE, weeping at the steering wheel on my way to the grocery store, kind of depression.  It seemed to come out of nowhere, and had grown over the span of 24 hours.  And all this, even though I'd slept (a good night's sleep is normally enough to quell my occasional crazies).  So I'm driving home with my tear-drenched groceries, and I get to thinking: The last time I felt so crazy-sad.  It was the last time I was pregnant.  So I went home, found an old test under the counter, and once again, saw a little bonus-line intent on changing my life.

I told husband.  We laughed maniacally for about 10 minutes, and husband drifted into the stage where you walk around the house flailing your arms, ranting about how you've become your parents and you don't want to drive a minivan and you're GETTING A FREAKING VASECTOMY RIGHT NOW THANKYOUVERYMUCH.  I calmly reminded him that maybe this wasn't the very best day to make that kind of decision, and he agreed, and put the knife down.

So no, we weren't trying, per se.  We were using protection, and my cycle has been a bit erratic, which the doctor said once meant that I probably wasn't ovulating, and I was told by THIS PERIOD APP that I was on a no-fertility day.  And so once we didn't use protection.  And now I am pregnant.  With my son, we tried for about 5 months.  But now, I am pregnant.

Side note:  That app will be getting a VERY strongly worded 3 star review from me later.  It wins points for being aesthetically pleasing and easy to use, but loses them because now I am pregnant.

We've decided to name this child Accidente Miller, because it's both descriptive and exotic.  Also, I think it works really well for a boy or a girl, so that's an added bonus.

That's all I've got for now, folks.  Hope all your accidents are this happy, and remember: absolutely ignore your smartphones.  They are trying to take over the world.

EDIT: Woops.  I forgot to add the link.  So now I added the link.