I won't ever forget the day.
My husband and I both took the morning off to be there and promised to call our parents when it was over. Never before had I even considered taking him along on a visit to the gynecologist, but armed with a big blue plus sign, it wasn't hard to convince him he needed to be there.
I went through a brief exam, had my blood taken and was well on the way to the checkout line when I realized that no one, not the nurse, the doctor or even the phlebotomist had actually said the words I'd been waiting to hear: "Congratulations, you're having a baby!"
I turned back, asking the lady who'd taken my blood if they planned on doing any kind of a, well, pregnancy test with it.
"Yes, you're pregnant," she told me, like it was the most ordinary and obvious thing in the world.
Ordinary? Not really what I was expecting on that first of many visits. I spent a lot of time at that doctor's office over the next nine months, and no problem seemed to surprise anyone.
It was a little disappointing, this idea that the biggest thing to ever happen to me was just something that happens all the time. As D-Day came closer, however, it became more and more comforting.
It goes back and forth.
When my now-6-month-old son came down with his first illness, it really burned me up when I got the "Well, that's day care for you" response.
When he had a skin problem that just didn't want to go away, it was nice to know that other parents had been there.
We all grow up and have to decide who to spend our lives with, whether to stay in our hometown or move away. We live our lives from day to day. We worry about the economy. We spend our days working, and if we're lucky, that work is something we can enjoy at least some of the time.
Then we get to go home to the people we love.
Pretty much anything we go through, someone's already been there.
Here on the lifestyle pages, I get to oversee the telling of all kinds of life's struggles and joys. During my day job, I am charged with the task of telling people's stories -- for a job, it's a pretty good one.
But at the end of the day, I get to go live my own with my high-school sweetheart, my beautiful baby boy, who was born on Halloween, my two dogs and the stray cat we gave a home.
I want to bring some of that to the table in this column ... not because I think I'm all that different, but because as life rolls along I realize how much the same it is for all of us.
I hope it won't be a one-sided conversation. On our website, nvdaily.com, I'll be posting this column along with other thoughts. It'd be great if you can weigh in -- whether the topic of the week is which diapers to use or how to cope with the loss of a loved one.
Jessica Wiant is features editor of The Northern Virginia Daily. Contact her at 800-296-5137 or firstname.lastname@example.org.