Not telling in public

Friday I hosted playgroup with my groovy mama friends. No one asked; I didn't tell.

I'm sure there were a few questions about my life lobbed my way, but mostly we were all busy keeping our kids from pissing each other off and trying to share whatever insights/thoughts/ideas came into our brain. And questions about known pregnancies and new babies are more interesting than general catch up.

I did note that my friend who once said it would have to be me or another mom to get pregnant before L had her baby said to the other L, "So you'll have to be pregnant before then" without referencing the other mom or me. The first time I'd kind of felt pressure, sort of a "don't put that on me; what if I miscarry tomorrow?" feeling. This time I felt left out like no one believes I will conceive.

I'm sure no one really gives a shit whether I do or not.

But then I went to a party of a former neighbor -- the people we bought our house from who were showing off their beautiful brand-new home with a fancy catered affair and two-year-old sent away to the grandparents. A bunch of our still/current neighbors came. One was talking about the sadness of giving away clothes now that her second child is a year old and her husband says that's all they can afford.

Then she asked me about our plans. I repeated what I've said before, that we would have tried this summer if it hadn't been for the move. I added that it was only recently that I started to feel like we could give it a shot. But I added something like, "I don't know what my body is up for, though."

There I stood, in a draping pink sweater drinking water at a party where it was the only non-alcoholic drink and I actually had to open up the fridge to find the Brita (there was no water out among the catered food or on the porch will all the non-punch drinks). Her eye almost made a twinkle sound as she said, "But it could happen right away. You never know."

"You never know," I agree. I think she knows.