Imagine that your closest friend or sister is engaged and wants you to be her bridesmaid. After thanking her for the honor (and asking who else will be a bridesmaid), you begin to wonder what you're going to have to wear. You delicately ask if she has begun to think of colors and/or styles. Of course, you would be happy to wear "whatever" she chooses, you know she has "impeccable taste," and yet you ask if she wouldn't mind emailing a picture (or two or three) of the dresses she has in mind for you to wear. This was pretty much how it went down when I was my sister's bridesmaid, except for one important detail. About three months into helping her plan the wedding, I started to feel a bit nauseous and was more tired more than usual. I peed on the stick and got two dark lines: Oh my god -- I was pregnant.