Christmas morning, I woke up early to go to the bathroom, and crawled back in bed to try to wake Matt. "You're shaking, baby" he said. Small wonder.
I got up and, ironically, put some buns in the oven for breakfast. A sweet treat for Christmas morning has always been a tradition. We opened our gifts from one another, then plundered our stockings. When all was said and done, I told Matt there should've been something else in his stocking, and went upstairs to get it.
"I found it! It's not wrapped, though. You'll have to close your eyes and put out your hand." And I placed the pregnancy test in his palm. Matt opened his eyes, looked confused, looked startled, and then shouted, "REALLY??" I told him I had taken the test that morning -- no wonder I was shaking -- and he put his arms around me and squeezed me tight. And sniffled. And said it was the best Christmas present he could've asked for.