MBH and I are in this strange limbo phase where the at-home kits say I’m pregnant, and the three weeks of constant nausea says I’m pregnant, but its too soon to announce – or, even to go to the doctor for an official visit.

We are calling this phase “Maybe Baby.”

In honor of “Maybe Baby” there is no more coffee and alcohol (for me). Instead, those vices have been replaced by an all-consuming need for ginger ale. I never knew the magical, restorative powers of ginger ale until now.

“Maybe Baby” has also brought some early, delightful perks. MBH brought me dinner in bed last night. He is constantly biking to the store for more ginger ale. And the phrase “the (maybe) baby neeeeeds Mi Hogar chips and salsa” has already been uttered more times than I care to admit.

Hopefully, Maybe Baby is in this for the long haul, but even if not, I think the chips & salsa addiction is here to stay.