Having exhausted the excuse of only being in the first trimester, la de da, we finally broke the news to the assorted elongated Family this past weekend.
Our first call, to my husband's sisters, was relatively calm and orderly, since they had both already guessed what was up. One sister-in-law had come up to visit us and brought as a gift a bottle of wine. We love wine and it was a perfect gift, only; we had stopped drinking. My husband made up some story about how we were watching our weight and my sister-in-law let it pass, but the gig was up. Another sister-in-law was engaged in a genealogical discussion with my husband, when all of a sudden he wandered off subject to talk about prenatal genetic questionnaires. So she was understandably suspicious as well. When we finally all got on the phone together, they were prepared.
Then we had to call my assorted family. From this I can tell you that everyone asks the same questions:
1) Are you going to find out the sex?
2) How are you feeling?
3) When are you due?
and they say the same things:
1) You must be excited.
2) I thought this was never going to happen.
It's hard to maintain a sense of excitement over and over again, especially in my case; if I had my way no one would know until the whole thing was over. But this is the beginning of my getting to be a public figure. Everyone will think they have the right to ask me questions they would never ask anyone else. People will try to rub my belly. Strangers will ask me when I'm due. And I will have to grin, bear it, and resist the urge to kill them.
On the other hand if we don't tell anyone we can't have a baby shower; and I plan to tell everyone we're having a boy even if we're not so I get alot of Tonka Toys. Baby showers are supposed to be for the baby but I have to test out all this stuff first to make sure it's safe, right? Any responsible parent would do so.
