I took another test. The fourth one. I don't feel sick. My boobs maybe hurt, but not really. I'm getting fat but if it's not for a baby, I have got to cut down.
The pregnant line showed up before the control line.
I'm pregnant.
I'm getting more used to the idea being for real. My husband and I had some kind of conversation in which we both agreed we were getting girl vibes. I can't even remember what he said. Something like, "you're thinking sister?" with a mild question mark, almost a period. As though of course we'd come to the same conclusion. We did last time. We were right. Go figure.
My friend is having a girl, and she just turned 40 with a great party last night. At least twice our mutual friends referenced, "when you have another" as though there was no doubt it would happen. And as though it weren't already.
I sucked in my gut on the size 00P jeans I could hardly button and tried to deflect attention from the comments.
Even if I had wanted to tell, someone else's party is not the place, and even the same week of her party wasn't the right time.
They might come here to the house for writing group on Wednesday. I moved just a few months ago and they haven't seen the new digs. I think I can only share so much of myself at once.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment