"We're what?"

It wasn't unusual for World's Most Wonderful Wife to call me at work during midday. She does so frequently and our casual, run-of-the-mill conversations always provide a much-needed and very welcomed respite from my workday.

Today's conversation was anything but ordinary, however. Near as I can recall, it diverged dramatically from the usual nanoseconds after I heard her say the words, "We're pregnant."

Um. Uh. Um....

It isn't often I'm at a loss for words. In fact, I'm rather proud of my grasp of language as well as my ability to translate thoughts into something resembling coherent conmmunication. But this was different.

I was dumbfounded. Speechless. Completely overwhelmed by the moment and the meaning of her words reverberating between my ears.

It's not that it was completely unexpected. We were hopeful that one day soon we would conceive. But it's not like we were working toward it in rabbit-like fashion, either.

I didn't know that WMWW was even considering taking a pregnancy test. I hadn't a clue. She had done nothing recently to reveal even a hint that something might be happening with her body.

So her words shocked me. In a good way. In a very good way.

I can't even explain how they affected me. It was like I was suddenly ensconced in some science fiction movie moment, with the world whirling around me as time stood still for me. My heart rate rose. My voice likely did, too. Tears welled up in my eyes. My hands quivered. My body tingled. I could feel my body temperature rise. My mind went into overdrive.

Heck, now that I think about it, the moment, physiologically speaking, probably wasn't that much different than it was during conception. The mind, though, that was completely different.

I can think of only a few other occasions when my mind went off like it did. Those were all harrowing, seemingly near-catastophic instances. Like when I was in seventh grade and I nearly drowned. All I remember about my seconds under water was a sort of out-of-body experience for my mind. All I thought about as I was taking in water and my friends were rushing to save me was what my mother would feel. I similarly experienced similar thoughts during separate accidental 180-degree spins on busy freeways.

This was different in the sense that this was all very positive. I wasn't thinking at all about my death. I was thinking about life. Another life. And my thoughts didn't immediately veer toward how I thought my mother would react, although I knew she would be positively elated about our news.

But it was the same in that if felt like I was experiencing, however momentarily, out of my body. My mind raced in ways I can't comprehend, just like in my near-death experiences. I was instantly flooded with so many thoughts.

Me? A father? Will I be a good parent? Will it be a boy or a girl? I don't care which gender it is, just so it's healthy. But if it's a girl, I'll have to join the NRA and interrogate any potential suitors. I've only held two babies, very briefly and uncomfortably, in my life. I've never even changed a diaper. We're going to need to convert our home office into a baby's bedroom. I better get my sleep now, while I can. Hey, I'm an world-class worrier already, what am I going to be like as a father?

It was a truly surreal moment for me. Absolutely otherworldly. And it was awesome.

Eventually, I was able to utter a reasonably coherent sentence. At least I think was able to do so. WMWW and I went on to discuss so many things during our not-so-routine midday conversation. It seemed like we talked forever -- talk excitedly, anxiously, nervously, eagerly -- although I'm fairly certain we limited our discussion to somewhere around an hour. Work could wait. This was a moment I had to savor as best as I could.