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On November 30, 2013, I took a pregnancy test in the downstairs bathroom of my parent's house. I placed the test back into the wrapper, snuggled up to Keegan in bed, and handed him the test. After waiting the suggested three minutes, I told him to look at it. He said that there was a second line, but it wasn't as strong as the first line, so it must be negative (he thought pregnancy tests worked like ovulation tests.) I ripped the test out of his hands, and stared at the faint second line.
Happy Discovery Day! (What else do you call that day when you finally learn you're pregnant?)
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