(If you just don’t have time to read all this but are mildly curious as to what this is about, the long story short is: yes, I am pregnant. Pregnant and tired. And thrilled. But mostly tired.)
This post is brought to you partly by mom guilt and mostly by the fact that I ran into a friend the other day who looked me up and down and then said, “Oh my god, you’re so pregnant! Why didn’t you tell me?”
And the answer, quite honestly, is: I forgot.
Oh, the pregnancy announcement. With my first, I could barely wait to tell everyone, whether they really cared or not. I strategically timed it around Valentine’s Day and baked cookies (homemade, time consuming cookies!) into the shape of hearts and had the audacity to think that the due date would be the actual day my son would be born. It was adorable. Naïve, a lovely, luxurious waste of time, and adorable.
With my second, I waited a bit longer, mostly because I was busy chasing a toddler. And then when I did, I managed to turn it into a somewhat humorous (to me) piece of writing . It wasn’t the most creative thing I have ever done, but it was something.
Now I am on to #3 and I literally can’t keep track of who I have told and who I haven’t. I am pretty sure my husband, OB, and my mom know but then the rest gets cloudy.
So what better way to cover all my bases than with a mass announcement?
The only thing is, I keep forgetting to do that, too. And when I finally start thinking about it, something comes up.
So this is the best I could do as I wait for my car in the lobby of a tire shop. Sorry, #3, but this won’t be the last time I neglect 1st world non-essential parental duties. (But if it makes you feel better, neither one of your siblings has a baby book.)
Here it is:
I was going to announce my pregnancy but then I went to sleep.
I don’t think I need to tell you how fantastic sleep is. I think about sleeping all the time. Sometimes, like when I am waiting forever for my son to put his own pair of pants on, I will stare off in the distance and my son will break into my train of thought to ask, “Mommy, why are you making that face?” and it’s because I’m daydreaming of taking a nap. So you’ll forgive me if every time I thought to announce my pregnancy, I hit the pillow instead.
I was going to announce my pregnancy but then I had to look at minivans.
Because once you get to three kids, apparently there is a rule that you need to get a minivan. I get it, I do. They make your life easier, they’re great with kids; they’re reliable, safe, and secure. They’re like the ideal spouse. But I’m just not sure I’m ready to walk down the aisle yet.
I was going to announce my pregnancy but then I couldn’t find anything in my closet to wear.
With my first pregnancy, I spent a lot of time looking at maternity clothing and figuring out cute clothes to wear. This time around I’m just trying to find something that fits, doesn’t look like a potato sack and that I can get into while simultaneously breaking up a fight over a toy both of my kids ignored for the past two months but just happen to want to play with right now. It’s proving to be difficult.
I was going to announce my pregnancy but then I decided to eat these shrimp tacos instead.
Trader Joe’s gets me every time. Unfortunately, this specific item looked much better on the box and tasted a bit like the box. Also, please don’t tell me there is something in this dish I shouldn’t be eating because I already ate it all. Thanks.
I was going to announce my pregnancy but then I had to make dinner.
Remember the first pregnancy when you could text your partner and say, “Hey, I’m coming home from work but going straight to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.” HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA.
I was going to announce my pregnancy but then both my kids napped at the same time.
I think the universe makes these occasions few and far between because it wants to remind me how precious and delightful and delicious an hour and 17 minutes really is. So instead of using the time to blog, I used it to fold laundry while watching YouTube videos of capsule wardrobes I will never have.
I was going to announce my pregnancy but then this puppy pooped on the floor. Again.
So during my first trimester, we fostered a puppy. Because nothing helps keep the nausea at bay than finding feces on the floor. Thankfully, this time was brief. And will not be repeated again.
I was going to announce my pregnancy but then I decided to watch an episode of Vikings* with my husband.
Because sometimes at the end of the day, the last thing I want to do is sit down and think about how pregnant I am. Or I forget how pregnant I am. Or I’d really just prefer to sit in front of the TV and remind myself that no matter how bad childbirth may get, it’s probably not as bad as getting Blood Eagle’d. Right?
Again, sorry for the lack of creativity, #3. Just know that even though I didn’t announce it with cookies, balloons, or an elaborately written sky message over a crowded beach, my love for you is already very real.
(Also, sorry for that half bottle of wine I drank before I knew about your existence. The doctor told me you’d be fine.)
*This was written prior to the airing of season 7 of Game of Thrones, so you can also substitute that as well.
If you liked this, you should know that I blog every now and again. Currently that means once every 6 months but I’m trying to be better. If you want this delivered straight to your inbox, you can sign up via email on comomedy.com. But that’s your choice. Also, Vikings is a decent show if you haven’t seen it and so is Turn but don’t spoil anything for me because I only have Netflix. Also, I just couldn’t get into Ozark, guys.