** These days, I feel like I have very little to write about other than this pregnancy. From the highs to the lows, I am consumed by this baby. And if not this baby, then it’s my daughter. So please forgive me for yet another pregnancy post. **
As I have mentioned a few times over the last several weeks, I am showing quite a lot. Enough now that I think I am looking more pregnant and less like a bloated, chubby mess who just ate too much McDonald’s.
So with that being said, I decided to perform a bit of a social experiment recently. Last week, when I went to play Bunco with 10 of my friends, I chose an outfit that very clearly highlighted my bump. All but two of these friends did not know I was pregnant, though many knew we had been trying for some time and had experienced a loss last year. But I was almost fifteen weeks pregnant at the time and ready to let the cat out of the bag. And as I had explained to my two friends who did know about Skittle, Leigh and Lillian (remember her?! she was due just a week before me, but miscarried early on), I am not good at grand pregnancy announcements — they feel awkward and embarrassing to me — so I was really just hoping someone would ask and I would not have to say anything on my own.
And to be honest, I thought that’s exactly what would happen. Even though I know it’s pretty taboo to ask a woman if she’s pregnant unless she’s in the middle of pushing her baby out of her vagina, I figured my friends wouldn’t care. They are a bunch of bold, brave, loud woman who have not hesitated to ask me before if I was pregnant when I did things like turn down a glass of wine (way before I actually ever conceived). But last week, they surprised me.
No one asked.
Well, that is, no one asked me. Instead, they all waited until I was at another table, and then asked Leigh and Lillian. Luckily, Lillian is in a very good place following her miscarriage and had told me when I walked in that she could not keep my secret a moment longer and would be telling people about Skittle if I did not. And I was more than happy to give her permission to do so.
So in the end, it all worked out. My experiment was kind of a dud and anti-climatic, but a few good friends learned about my news and Lillian got the pleasure of delivering it.
Of course, the next day, two things had to take place following such an announcement:
- I e-mailed Lillian to be sure that she was okay with all the baby talk (she was) and, almost simultaneously, she e-mailed me to ensure that I truly did not mind that she was the one to spill the beans (I did not).
- I worried. No, I panicked…imagining another Bunco some months down the road, when I would have to tell all of them that my baby is dead. Yes, I am dramatic and paranoid like that.
Later this week, we will go “Facebook public.” I am still trying to find the perfect wording that somehow captures what we have gone through and how much this baby is wanted and loved. And of course, I’m sure there will be another panic attack to follow that. Stay tuned!