I was living a spartan life in Jackson, WI. The movers had taken most of our furniture except for a few pieces we planned to give away. Megan and I had driven down to South Carolina a few weeks earlier, and I had returned to work with EPIC Creative through mid-September.
During that time, Megan's brother, Wade, and Suz were getting married in Minneapolis--in a ceremony officiated by Megan. She had flown up a couple days early, and I planned to drive up on Friday for the wedding and to see Meg.
Thursday night, the day before I leave for Minnesota, I get a call from Megan. She's speaking in a hushed voice, and noticeably nervous.
"Um, I don't want you to get scared," she says.
My mind starts racing. What happened? Who's been hurt? Is something wrong in Charleston? "What is it," I ask.
"I think I'm pregnant."
I'd like to think that my response was immediately reassuring to Megan. That I didn't hesitate to tell her that I was overjoyed, that this was amazing, that we couldn't be more blessed. In truth, I don't remember my exact words. I was happy. I was excited. I'm sure I told her not to worry, that I loved her, and things were going to be great. But I'm also sure there was a pause there first. Just a beat, but I know I could feel my mind reeling. This was something we wanted, yes, but we didn't expect it so soon. It was a genuine surprise, and I hope my hesitation didn't distress Megan. I can imagine one second of silence on the other end of the line feeling like an eternity after revealing news like that.
A minute or two later, the conversation was over. I remember her making comments like, "everyone's here, trying to pour me drinks and asking why I'm not touching mine. I keep saying I don't feel well." And, "I'm in the bathroom. Anna's here. I have to go."
The next day, on the way to the rehearsal, my car dies on the highway in western Wisconsin. I'm stranded for a while, and eventually get a tow to a dealership that's able to replace my alternator and get me back on the road in time to catch up with everyone at the dinner. Megan's not drinking. People notice. She's feeling sick and has to leave the table a time or two. People notice.
It turns out that in the last 36 hours, she's used five pregnancy tests, and consulted Anna and Kathleen on the accuracy of the results.
The next day, the wedding goes off without a hitch. It's a beautiful outdoor ceremony. Megan does a great job marrying her brother. Don't think that phrase wasn't batted around a few times.
The next day, we want to tell our parents. We figure it's early, but we're both here with her family, so we'd better do it now while we have the chance. It's Megan's parents' anniversary, so we have a card for them. Inside the card, Megan puts a pregnancy test with a ribbon tied around it. We go down to her parents room first thing in the morning, knock on the door, get the muffled, "Who is it? What do you want? What time is it?"
We retreat to our room and decide it's a good time to call my parents. We get them both on the phone and ask, "How would you like to be grandparents?"
So that goes well.
A little while later, we head back to Megan's parents' room and try again. When she realizes what's going on, Julie is ecstatic. And for the rest of the morning she can't help but tell everyone she sees. So I guess that went pretty well, too.
