Three stories.

1)  My coworker is a psychic.  She wears flowing dresses and a knowing smile.  She almost always has a shawl draped over her shoulders.  She creates astrology charts and reads tarot cards.  Months ago, as I stepped into the office, she told me that she had a dream about me.  In her dream I was very happy– something very good had happened.  I forgot about her dream until a week and a half ago, a few days after ovulation.  I was having a terrible day, when my coworker asked me if the good thing had happened yet.  “No, not yet.”, I replied bitterly.  A few days later, I was cheerfully relating some inconsequential good thing that had happened.  “Maybe this is the good thing you were talking about!”, I joked.  “No,” she replied: “the thing I dreamed about was something much bigger”.

2) We were going over to our friends’ house to celebrate the Lunar New Year.  I looked up my horoscope for the year.  It read: “For most things, you may need to lose before you gain. Your relation with young people is good. If you are female and married, it is easy for you to conceive a child.”  

3)  The Doctor is Muslim.  When she told her mother that Sea and I were trying to make a baby, her mother scolded her for having not given me holy water to consume in the process– before procedures or pregnancy tests.  Appropriately chastized, The Doctor told me this story.  I believe anything is possible, so gladly accepted the offered water.  It sat in a small plastic bottle in my cupboard until yesterday morning, when I went to Clinic One for my blood test.  Wanting to do the thing correctly, I downloaded an app on my phone that would point me towards Mecca.  I texted The Doctor asking her to pray, angled myself in the right direction, closed my eyes, squeezed some of the water from the bottle into my mouth, and went in for the blood test.  Later that afternoon I texted The Doctor saying, “Holy holy water!”

I’m pregnant.