I should probably mention

When you read words like "99% effective," you tend to think, "Hey! That's pretty darn effective, 99%!" You almost never think, "Hmm, that's a whole 1% of not-effective," because 1%? Is a tiny, tiny number, a number so small it isn't even real. You can't be bothered with 1%, because 1% only happens to other people. One percent is not you; you are 99%.

But 1% of an awful lot of people - millions of women, probably - is still hundreds and thousands. So it shouldn't come as quite such a surprise when you find yourself in the 1%. But you are shocked. When you pee on a stick and two lines appear, not just one, you are so shocked you nearly fall off the toilet because it means that your birth control pill really is only 99% effective, and that 1% is you.

What I am saying is: I'm pregnant. I found out last Tuesday when some niggling, subconscious thought prompted me to raid my home-pregnancy-test stash, even though I knew, I knew, it would be negative, because hello! I'm on the Pill! That's, like, 99% effective!

I went to the doctor yesterday, who confirmed: I'm about 8 weeks along. Sometime next June, I will be a mom of three. My goodness, that seems like a lot of kids!

I'm having a hard time accepting the reality of this; it's enough of a surprise that it's sent me firmly into denial. The thing is, I'm not feeling conflicted about having another baby - another baby will be wonderful! A tiny, wonderful person to love! - but I'm completely flabbergasted (flabbergasted! Let's all use that word more) at the thought of being pregnant again.

Because, see, Aaron and I had just made the decision to adopt more kids. It's something I've wanted to do for years, a burden I've felt - there are so many kids, so many, who need a family to love them, that it seems almost irresponsible to be making any more kids when I could be taking care of some of the kids who don't have families. I think I'd finally brought Aaron around to that point of view, we were ready to really start this process, I had started investigating different options like fostering and foreign adoption and -- instead: we're pregnant.

I almost feel a little guilty, you know? Here we are, selfishly getting pregnant again, which will just take away a spot in our family for another child who needs us.

But that's hogwash, and I know it. It's not like we were trying to get pregnant - heavens, we were trying not to! - and that this has happened, that I'm a 1%, is God's design, not ours. And I do still want to adopt a couple more kids after this; it'll just push the process back a few more years. We'll just have to accept that our family is going to be a little larger than we'd originally planned. And really, since when has this been about OUR plans??

I'm feeling okay-ish, thanks for asking; I'm utterly, hopelessly tired, and that's making it tougher to deal with the emotional-ness of all of this, but my kids still take afternoon rest times, which means I do, too. I'm nauseated, but not too pukey, which is a nice change from my first two pregnancies. I do need to stop taking my antidepressant, which is frightening, as it's one with some pretty nasty withdrawal symptoms; more about this later, when I'm feeling less whiny.

As for NaBloPoMo - I'm not making any promises. It's a miracle I've managed to stay awake long enough just to type this; I don't know how I'll do that every day for a month. It's not that I don't have enough to say - I do, I do! - it's that finding the energy to type it all out without falling asleep with my face on the keyboard will be haaslksjfd;jafjd;asfoaius