Thursday, February 16, 2006

One parent down

Saturday, January 28:

My husband and I are going out to dinner with his parents tomorrow night to celebrate his dad’s birthday, and I agreed to let my husband tell his parents the baby news then.

That means I have to face my stepmother before tomorrow night.

I told her if I ever got pregnant, she’d be the first to know (after my husband).

I couldn’t reach her all day. Finally around 9:30, I got her on her cell phone. Luckily, she was with the whole family (brother, grandmother and family friend), waiting for a table at a restaurant. They’re an hour behind me where they live, but that’s still a late dinner. She was tired.

“Well, as long as you’re all there, when you get a table, you’re going to have to get a drink or a dessert to celebrate,” I say.

“Celebrate what?”

“Well, I told you you’d be the first to know.”

“First to know what?” she says. Then she gasps. “You’re pregnant?” she whispers.


The cell phone made the rounds. My brother, who has been the most outspoken about wanting my husband and me to have a child since the day of our wedding, was happy and kept saying congratulations. My grandmother informed me this would be her fifth great-grandchild. My stepmom just kept saying she was in shock.

You can’t blame her. I told her for years I wasn’t going to get married. Then I told her for years I wasn’t going to have children. Because of my age, I’m sure she’d given up on the idea altogether. Her generation didn’t wait until 35+ to have a child.

One parent down. Three to go.


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