Secret's Out

They don't tell you that you really shouldn't tell anyone the first three months since the new life is so tenuous you could lose it. But this proposition is slightly silly and exposes the vanity of the new mother because she begins to thicken like a polar bear readying for winter.

As the subcutaneous fat builds up, her bedtime creeps slowly backward until it's around the setting or the sun or that of school age children, depending where on the globe you live.

This week we had the much awaited first trimester appointment. After this we were going to tell co-workers, friends, strangers on the street.

Annoying, frustratingly, predictably, our appointment was delayed by two hours. I felt terrible because the reason for our doctor's delay is that she was delivering someone else - two women actually - who were having emergency C-sections. I was not in the least bit grumpy and put out: it was nearly nine p.m. and I hadn't had anything to eat since the grapes in the car on the way over. When the receptionist told me (only after I marched up and asked, mind you) that the 6:00 p.m. appointment had not yet been seen, I was ready to use the excuse of pregnancy hormones and go on the rampage.

Instead, knowing it would have the effect of a blow dryer on a wig, I took out my Nokia, asked for the password for the wireless, and caught up on work messages.

A man was yelling down the hallway and it turned this man was the back up doctor, German, who I could see as my doctor for that evening. Needless to say, I was less than thrilled at this prospect having heard him chewing out all the nurses. Desperate as we were to know whether we had a viable pregnancy, we took him, grumpiness and all. Luckily it was an abdominal sonograph as my last few pap smears have been with women; and before I was married. The idea of a vaginal sonograph with my husband looking on with a new male doctor was about to send me over the edge of my glucose starved mind.

With the tummy scan we saw him/her: sleeping! I had to get up and do a few jumps to see if the little blur with a spinal cord and heartbeart would wake up. But she didn't: she dreamt on, likely food starved like her mother.

The good news is that we are a go: now news is spreading. And my vanity is appeased. Yes, there is a reason for the growing belly!

Telling People

While telling family and friends is very fun: I was slightly worried about telling co-workers. I broke the ice this week with my direct manager who is luckily a Western woman and mother. The previous job I had was with a male Qatari manager who I could never have seen having the we-are-in-the-family-way talk with considering he had referred to my being engaged and needing time off as my 'social considerations'. But the talk with my Western was

Predictions

Now that we are almost into the twelfth week and out of the danger zone of miscarriages, the predictions have started.

What gender do I think the baby is? Answer: girl.
Don't ask me why - I just feel that it is. My husband is worried I will be disappointed by a boy. How's that for generational irony?

When do I think the baby will come? Answer: early because we have a history of pre-mies in my family, myself included. I predict three week early - sometime in June.

How much do I think the baby will weigh? Answer: five - seven pounds.

These are the things a first time mother of friends with 2+ children knows to contemplate. The other night I had to laugh at myself because I brought back several parenting books when I came back on vacation. And I was only a few pages into the first one. I've got to hurry up, I thought on the plane, I'm supposed to have read an entire one before we land.

Later that night, tucked safely back in bed, I realized that I have 6 months to read these books. And for me, who can read a book in a day, that should be plenty of time.

If the jet lag keeps up (last night had me awake from 2am - 5am) then I should rip through them in no time.

I heartily give THE GIRLFRIENDS' GUIDE TO PREGNANCY a hearty two thumbs up. Refreshingly honest and thorough, it is remarkably like having a talk with a girlfriend - but you've never met the writer or talked to her. Nevertheless the overall effect is reassuring.

My husband is reading a book also, much shorter and smaller than mine MY GUYS CAN SWIM the only pregnancy book purported to not put father's to sleep. Apparently thus far it's been true.