I have never felt like I belonged to a group of people. As a kid, I spent half my time with the white kids and the other half with the Asian kids. And through it all, I never felt like I truly fit. In middle school, I gravitated toward the Hispanic and Black kids because being half-Filipino felt closer to their cultures. I spent most of my childhood on American military bases overseas. My dad, born in Florida, served in the U.S. Air Force for 22 years, and my mom was born and raised in the Philippines. She lived in Pampanga, where the Clark Air Base was, until she met and married my father, who was deployed there.

Two blue lines. “Are you sure?” I asked my husband, Tom. One line on the white, plastic stick looked kind of faded. I peed on another stick. Same result: Two blue lines, this time, more defined. “Ninety-nine percent accuracy, babe,” he pointed out. In the movies, when couples find out they’re pregnant, they usually hug and cry and have this really special moment in the bathroom. I simply shrugged and suggested we go see a doctor to be absolutely sure. I’m sure my husband wanted to say, “I told you so!” (He was more sure than I was that I was going to get pregnant.) Instead, he said, “Well, we did say, if it happens, it happens.” But he’s much better at hiding his surprise and going with the flow than I am.