On Sharing the News

"Congratulations!"

I stared, dazed, at the woman who'd just stopped me in the produce section.

"Oh," I said, unsure how to respond. Do I really look that pregnant?

No. "Your shirt!" she said. "Did you run that marathon?"

"Oh! Yes!" I said. And then I listened as she told me she's run two halfs but couldn't do a full. I assured her that she could, and then she went her merry way.

Today marks 10 weeks of pregnancy. And as many warned, the weeks have passed quickly. I've been pretty nauseous the past 4 weeks, and I can't pretend that I haven't complained. I'm programmed not to complain; like many of you, I've wanted this so badly for so long. But Tuesday night, after being unable to take my prenatal vitamin (just couldn't get past the gagging to swallow the darn thing), I just broke down in tears.

But other than that, I've kept it together, even if I can't always keep it down. I've shared the news with my immediate family and a couple close friends, and yesterday I told my manager. I get nervous about telling people. I know I'm protective of the experience; I definitely don't want acquaintances telling me that this symptom means that, or asking if I've thought about cloth diapers or breastfeeding or whatever, or telling me stories about their pregnancies.

My husband, on the other hand, showed our 6-week ultrasound during a staff meeting a couple of weeks ago. Oh man! I am excited to share the news with my coworkers, but I think I'll walk over and grab food with a few I'm closer with, and then everyone else can just sort of find out.

My little brother had the best reaction. We were talking for a while (I'd called him for his 19th birthday), and about 20 minutes into the conversation, I mentioned that I was having a baby. "Wow, thank you!" he said, as if that were part of his birthday present. "You're welcome," I told him.

When I look toward the future, even now, I just feel so much peace. I think about our little family--my husband, myself, our dog, and our little boy or girl--and it all just seems right. Even now, walking through our neighborhood with our dog, with the leaves changing, and our little baby-to-be chilling in utero, the injections and blood draws and spiking emotions seem far, far in the past.

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this ramble.