The greatest adventure

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There were two and a half of us, there are now three.
It was a year ago, on the shores of Lake Champlain, on a cool, clear spring evening. The smiling justice of the Peace arrived on his bike. We walked to a bench by the boat house and we stood there, nervous. I took my jacket off. I was wearing a black and white pregnancy dress, the Viking had a gray suit on. The sun was reflecting on the water, the wind was making a few locks of my hair dance. We did not even have wedding rings yet! It took more time to make them than to organize our intimate ceremony.

There were two and a half of us, there are now three.
Fifteen days before, I had looked at the Viking and said, “I want to get married now. No more waiting, no guest.” He took charge. He booked the hotel, made a reservation for dinner, called a Justice of the Peace. The idea of intimacy seduced him. We read our vows and held hands. The judge took a few pictures. That night, we walked along the harbor, silently, happy as kings.

There were two and a half of us, there are now three.
And it is not the Lemon, growing in my belly, who was going to let me forget his presence at six in the morning! Driven by insomnia and pregnancy cravings, we ate breakfast as soon as possible, in our very own room with a view. The lake in the distance, a smile on our lips, my hand on my belly. 
We walked around town a bit before heading back home. I remember the following few blissful hours in the car, soft music playing in the background. Our little secret, only for the two and a half of us. We made our marriage public only a few weeks later.

There were two and a half of us, there are now three.
Say what you want, before you have children you are deficient in love. You have a vague idea of what it is, maybe you even think you have experienced it, but … but then you go from two and a half to three (or four, or five!) and suddenly you know. A new door opens. The two of us, we were merely an unresolved Rubik’s Cube, a too complex Sudoku puzzle, an Ikea bookshelf with a missing piece. When we became three, a previously unknown labyrinth of love unlocked. Our snuggles are warmer, our hearts are mushier, our eyes are wetter. The three of us, we’ve discovered the love equivalent of the answer key to the New York Times crossword puzzles — and not the Sunday ones.

There were two and a half of us, there are now three.
And that’s the greatest adventure that could be.

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from two and a half…
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to three.

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photos: Geoff Hansen Photography