Yesterday Hubby and I finally told my Mum and Dad. After a week of waiting for the darn "surprise package" to arrive, and with today being a Bank Holiday, we felt compelled to spill the beans rather than wait for Tuesday's mail. Here's how we did it...
Hubby has been helping Mum and Dad by getting some bids together for remodeling their house out here. So, I used this as an opportunity to get all 4 of us on the phone together. This was Hubby's script, more-or-less verbatim:
So, I've been getting bids for the tiling and the kitchen for you but I think that, ultimately, you're going to need to come out sometime early next year. We're thinking April, because that's when the baby is due.
Silence. "Whaaaat!?" (Dad). Sniffles (Mum). "Oh my God!" (Dad again). Lots of half-laughing, half-crying, congratulating etc... Funny but most of the congratulations and "good jobbing" seemed to go to Hubby. I guess his guys traveled the farthest but seriously! Although, with a queasy stomach, I couldn't think about much I wanted to be congratulated for.
Needless to say M&D are beyond themselves with happiness. Dad immediately rummaged through the liquor cabinet like a madman, grabbed a bottle of champagne and proceeded to bop Mum on the head with a flying cork. He also claimed he would be smoking his "special occasions" cigar, which has been sitting in a drawer for a "special occasion" ever since I can remember. Hence, it's probably more like a special occassion pile of ashes by now. Mum blubbed for a good five minutes and then set about trying to tell me about all the "good ways" this was going to change my life. Thanks, I said, but that's 7 months away and right now I'm just trying to get through the next 7 hours of energy-sapping nausea, exhaustion, and bile-belching.
Which is a great segue to how I'm doing. BLECH. That's all I have to say. All Sunday's exciting plans for Hubby and I to do something fun together trickled away hour-by-hour as we waited for me to get a second (or maybe even first) wind. A trip to the fair was ousted because of the heat which doesn't help with the nausea and exhaustion. Then an excursion to see some million-dollar foreclosure homes was eliminated when we found ourselves literally hanging off each other in exhaustion, staring at the computer screen. (Hubby was tired too after a busy week - he only gets one day off). Instead we settled for staying home and watching one of our Planet Earth DVDs. The last time we allowed ourselves to relax during the day like this was the weekend after my hip surgery, so you know I'm not exaggerating about how we felt. The highlight of our day was heading out to Raleys to buy groceries and then coming home to make Penne Bolognese, which Hubby did while I lolloped on the couch like a lump of lard, watching Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.
In other news, my daily pregnancy e-newsletter tells me that the baby has grown to the size of a blueberry and my uterus is now the size of an orange. I guess, to complete our family fruit cocktail, that makes Hubby a banana - STILL, since there's pretty much nothing going on with him. Lucky bastard.
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