I have this friend who could probably keep a pregnancy a total secret until she had the actual baby–and then people would be all, “Hey, who’s the kid?” Seriously. She’s amazing and stoic and calm and rational and pretty much the opposite of me in every way. Cheyenne and I have this question we ask ourselves when we don’t know what course of action to take: “What would Libby do?”
Me? I…am not so good at keeping secrets. (Not my secrets, anyway.) When I found out we were going to have a baby, I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Same as when I was in fourth grade and my dog had puppies, or when I was moving to Italy. I was compelled to tell everybody, right away, and with as much dramatic flair as possible.
Here’s why I never even tried to keep a pregnancy hush-hush:
- I’m happy. I’m so happy I can’t even stand it. And I want everybody else to be happy, too. So happy you can’t even stand it. There will be no sad faces when I have good news to tell.
- Pregnancy only lasts 9 months. Why on earth would I waste several weeks of not dreaming and grinning and sharing?
- What if people guess it anyway when I start to flake out on stuff because I can’t keep my eyes open after 3:00 p.m., or if I throw up all over my groceries at Sam’s club? Then the news will have been discovered in a less-than-awesome way.
- What if people guess it by the stupid look on my face that took over the second I peed on a stick? Also boring.
- What if something terrible happens and I have no one to turn to because nobody knew? What if I sunk into terrible depression and people were all like “I don’t want to hear about your problems! My dog swallowed a human finger!”
- What if I was out and I felt like buying a little baby sweater on clearance at Dillard’s for $3.99? Wouldn’t my children find it odd? I’d have to explain and then they’d tell the whole world.
- I’ll end on an uneven number, because well, I don’t really care. I’ve got a baby! God seriously just made me partly responsible for growing an actual human being. Holy crap! I get to be a mom to one of God’s precious little children. It’s mind-blowing because when I put it like that, I have legitimate doubts in my own competency as a parent. I need all the help I can get–starting now.
So, yay! A baby! According to my emergency room ultrasound session in which every single one of my internal organs were measured and photographed (cha-ching! Can you say $8,000 hospital bill?) we are 6 weeks along today. That didn’t line up with my original guesstimate of more like 8 weeks, but it just proves that despite my careful planning, God’s timing is perfect. We are more than happy to adjust…and tell everybody we meet our good news.