This morning when I came down to let the dog out the message light on our answering machine was blinking. I found this very strange because it wasn’t blinking when I went to bed and I hadn’t heard the phone ring this morning. So I pushed the button and listened to this: “Hey E, it’s blah blah blah from work. I was just wondering where you are because you’re late for duty.”
And my brain started like this: “Why isn’t E at work? He’s not in bed. I remember him saying good bye. Maybe something happened. Maybe he was in a car crash on the way in. Oh my God where’s my cell phone? No one’s called me yet, so they must not have found him. He’s still lying by the side of the road somewhere, or maybe the car rolled into a ditch or into the riverand at this very moment he’s trying desperately to carve a message into a piece of debris from the crash to tell our unborn baby he’s sorry he can’t be around anymore, but he’ll always look down on us from heaven. I can’t raise this baby myself, I won’t be able to afford it. We’ll end up being thrown out of the house, living on the streets in a cardboard box, begging for scraps of bread. My life is ruined. My husband is lying in a ditch dying right now and all I can do is stare at this answering machine. I need to do something to save him!!!!”
So I called E. He picked up on the second ring.
“OH MY GOD ARE YOU OK?” was all I could manage.
“Uh, yes. I’m at work. Are you ok?”
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD! WHY WERE YOU LATE TO WORK?!?!?”
“Oh yeah, I had to be in at 6 but I forgot. Someone covered for me though so I’m not in trouble.”
“Oh. Ok. So you weren’t in a horrible car crash that would leave me and the baby alone to live in a cardboard box and fend for ourselves in this cold, cruel world?”
He seemed to be a little confused by this. “Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked.
“I’m fine now. See you tonight!”

Things I did last night because I was pregnant:

1. Picked a dress that was not short and low cut. Ok, so it was low cut, but it wasn’t both. I’m retaining water like the Hoover Dam and feel like the hugest, puffiest pregnant person ever. I figured my best chance is to distract people with my newly enormous boobs.
2. Glared at every single person I saw smoking and loudly complained I couldn’t be within a mile’s radius of a cigarette, lit or unlit.
3. Ordered dessert without feeling the least bit guilty – although I did share it with E. By “share” I mean allow him two or three bites before stabbing him through the hand with my fork. It was his celebration after all.
4. Turned down an enormous amount of free alcohol and drank nothing but water. 
5. Sighed and moped about standing up at the nightclub until E talked the bouncers into allowing his poor pathetic pregnant wife to sit in the table service area.
6. Made friends with one of the bikini-clad hoochy-cooch dancers after telling her I was sitting down because I was knocked up.
7. Allowed several complete strangers to hug me and/or touch my stomach. This is the first time that’s happened. I don’t have much of a belly right now, just a little extra pooch from the before mentioned Colorado River my body has determined necessary. But when I saw these women reaching for my mid section, instead of sucking in I pushed that sucker out as far as possible. If they want a belly, I’ll give ’em a belly.
8. Took my shoes off.
9. Yelled at E to leave me alone and go dance with other people. Normally I would say “Oh don’t worry about me, just have a good time” and totally not mean it. Actually doing that would lead to a very cold and stony weekend where he is punished with home improvement chores and trips to Bed Bath and Beyond. But since I felt fine sitting down and couldn’t be bitter about not drinking, I really did want him to enjoy his party. I think he might have also made friends with a hoochy-cooch dancer, but since every time a girl talked to him he screamed “MY WIFE IS PREGNANT! SHE’S OVER THERE! WAVE AT MY WIFE!!!!” I don’t mind.
10. Made everyone go home before last call. Even a $20 cover charge can’t keep me awake until 2 am.

Things I did despite being pregnant:

1. Played blackjack – and won!
2. Went to a nightclub.
3. Danced with a hoochy-cooch dancer on a banquette. I figured it might be my last chance to do that kind of thing. But if my baby grows up to be a stripper, I’ll never forgive myself.

We got some fantastic news today. E made chief! It’s hard to explain to a non-military person what a big deal it is, but once he puts on the rank it takes an act of Congress to be demoted. And we all know how often Congress actually gets stuff done. Secretly, I’m most excited by the fact that now when he dresses up he’ll wear the Tom Cruise uniform from Top Gun. I’m gonna need a copy of “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling” immediately.

In terms of the baby, this promotion means that I no longer have to work. E’s raise won’t be quite equal to my paychecks, but close enough that I won’t have to rush back to the office after the tadpole is born. It also means we could be transferred as soon as September, so now there’s that to freak out about. I’ll write more later but now we’re going out to dinner to celebrate, and the pregnant woman gets to be DD.