Sharing the Good News

This is the moment that our existing dependant was informed that a baby would be joining the family.  A moment later, however, I threw her ball and all was forgiven...for now.

One of the first dilemmas we faced when we discovered Baby was on board, was who we should tell and when?  It seems like the norm is to keep it quiet until you get to the 3 month mark.  At this stage you can generally establish if things are going well or not.  Doc told us it was entirely up to us who we told and when and was pretty blunt about what could possibly go wrong!

I suppose doctors need to be pretty straight when it comes to the high possibility of a failed pregnancy and by being matter-of fact they can better prepare couples for that eventuality.  I do appreciate the honesty of such an approach, but you can't help leaving feeling that, despite already beating the enormous odds against conceiving in the first place, you will be very lucky indeed to make it all the way to (or through) actual birth.

That being said, this made me all the more determined to tell some of those people closest to me.  That way, in the (seemingly almost probable) outcome that something did go wrong, we would at least have the support of our closest friends and family.

So who makes the cut?

Well there was no way we could hide it from my parents with Wifey being so crippled by her "morning" sickness...and considering the fact that we were living with them at the time.  So parents would find out and therefore so would our brothers.  And, by default, so would their girlfriends.

And what reaction would we get?

Well there was some combination of all the following cliches:

"You're not!?" *stunned, expectantly excited silence*

"Oh WOW!" (accompanied by the thought process: 'my child is too young to be a parent!')

"I'm going to be a GRANDPARENT!"

"I'm going to be the coolest uncle!"

"This is the best news EVER!"

And finally, the combination:

*Stunned silence* (accompanied by the thought process: "I'm too young to be a grandparent!")

Additionally to these, we each told our closest couple of friends, who were all suitably, coolly stoked.  However, we thought it best to hold off telling work for the moment...

Alas, "morning" sickness strikes again.

When a girl of a certain age gets married, any proceeding signs of ailment are closely monitored by all women (and some particularly perceptive men) in the workplace.  This makes it particularly difficult to fake 'not-pregnant', particularly when you have a poker-face as good as Wifey's isn't.  True, this phenomenon has caused many a flu to send the "She's so pregnant" rumour mill into overdrive, but when the real thing strikes, there is no mistaking it for those who recognise the signs:

"Can't help but notice that [Wifey]'s not drinking tonight..."

"She's driving."

"That would be why she passed on the prawns?"

*Chinks glass in congratulations*

With these signs on display for all to see and a mounting number of sick days for "spewiness", the cat is well-out of the bag at Wifey's work; the worst kept secret in town.  Fortunately my symptoms have been far less severe, so I may yet make it through the first trimester.