This isn't about the movie. When a woman suspects something is up — signs begin popping up everywhere. Could it be that she's more aware? Judge for yourself.

On Sunday (September 8), Lane, my son, did something — but I'm too embarrassed to share it here.

On Tuesday (September 10), I had a message on the machine from a doctor's office indicating they wanted to move a prenatal appointment on September 27. Uh, we didn't call to make an appointment. We hadn't even confirmed for sure. We hadn't even decided which doctor we wanted.

I loved the doctor (Dr. T) I had previously, but our insurance doesn't cover his services. Dr. T was out of town for a long time, so I met another doctor (Dr. G) on the insurance plan. Immediately, I was comfortable with him. But that didn't keep me from thinking about the other one who made everything so easy. Since the call was from the Dr. G's office, we chose him.

That Tuesday night, Paul was looking at the TV guide and accidentally eyed the title of an episode for a show we don't even watch. The title? “Pregnancy Test.” I wasn't ready to attempt The Stick, yet.