I first let Dan know several weeks ago. I was on Facebook and saw he was online, and sent him an instant message. I think I took him by surprise, and really, who IMs anymore? We chatted for a second or two, and I spilled that Cheri was pregnant. At least, she and I were pretty sure.
"Kind of early to tell people. Just letting you know," Dan advised, wisely. At least he said something to that effect. He was right, but I had to tell someone beyond the inner circle.
I'd already told a few people, some family and some close friends at work. In my defense, Cheri dropped the news without any warning. She did several home tests, and the results were unanimous. We attempted to work out the math, and landed on five weeks that day. This was a Saturday, so we couldn't set up a formal exam until Monday at the earliest. And at that stage, there's no 'exam' other than checking for hormone level elevation. So Cheri scheduled for those. A week later, the numbers showed positive results for pregnancy. Week six came and went.
Between Week Six and now, Week 11, I've been given a lot of advice. Most belonged in the "don't announce until you're sure" category. This is wise, yes, but "announcing" is not what I'd say I was doing. In soliciting pregnancy and baby-related advice, you have to announce something. Of course people get this. All indicators pointed to an ultrasound. Okay, then, we'll get that at the first big appointment.
They didn't do an ultrasound, but we did get to hear the heartbeat. Sitting and waiting for the appointment to begin, I felt like the oldest fart in the room. I'm certain all the mothers (all whipping in and out on what I'm estimating is not their first time in the doctor's office) were under age 24. That's fine by us; by now both of us have talked to numerous mothers, many at 35 and beyond. This is not a big deal. Just need to be cautious, as I've been advised many times. That one is up there with not telling anybody.
The heartbeat came last, after we were hit with multiple piles of literature proclaiming "Congratulations on your new baby!" A pleasant, knowledgable nurse took us through the various testing options available to expectant parents. I'm thinking, this really is counterintuitive. Shouldn't we at least clear that one hurdle first? Like do that big confirmatory thing everyone swears we must do? Finally, the chief doctor arrives, the one that will be our leader through this, and... thank God, she's okay. Decent person, I think to myself. She hasn't advised us on anything the first ten minutes she's talking to us. This almost worries me. Nobody's yet asked me if I smoke. Maybe that should get covered.
Then the heartbeat check. Cheri's first. woaw woaw woaw woaw woaw. Then the next one. There it is: woawoawoawoawoawoawoawoawoawoawoa. And that's it. The doctor informs us that's the easiest heartbeat she's ever had to find. The most comforting news I've heard, ever.
How stupid. I did not factor in how I'd feel about all this. I only took two hours off this morning. I thought we'd simply comfirm what we already knew. Instead I was reminded that really, I don't know anything. I called my boss and cleared the day. She was empathetic. I apologized. "Steve, you're a good worker," she said.
I'm around people all the time, I work in a big place. Pregnancy is normal. And for us, this was no accident. We'd been trying for a while. Sometime maybe I'll post about that experience.
But just for a moment yet, we're in a bit of a vacuum here.
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