The hour or so prior to making my pregnant announcement to some girl friends was an hour of Sweat, Loss of Appetite, Stuttering Words and Lack of Concentration. I was inexplicably scared, because to tell people you see frequently that you’re pregnant is … admitting that you’re pregnant. Not to mention the fact that Kyle and I had been adamantly against procreating. It’s like when your husband tells you that he’s not very good at Monopoly, and then he puts 100 hotels on the green properties and you have to mortgage everything as you cry while clutching your last white fake dollar. You decide that your husband is a liar. He’s actually very good at Monopoly, like you actually wanted children this entire time, you big bloated faker. But while your husband laughs at his manipulation, you actually, honestly, 100-percent didn’t intend to have children this soon, and who’s going to believe you now, in this age of highly available Fort Knox-like, easy-to-use birth control?
Then, after days of irrational mental dialogue, you come to terms with what you are, and you don’t exactly publicize it, but you don’t hide it, either. If someone tells so-and-so, that’s fine, but you yourself will keep it on the big DL. And la-di-da, life progresses in a private, secretive manner …
Until right now because you realize that you are in fact a giant, hypocritical liar like your husband, because, hello, (*edits* for clarification) *you’re actually not private or secretive AT ALL* because you have a blog on the worldwide Web (!) on which you have exposed yourself entirely and on which you can hardly seem to write about anything else. (And on which you have a disturbing affinity for writing in the second-person narrative.) Therefore, with my newfound self-knowledge in hand, please allow me to back up:
“And la-di-da, real life progresses in a private, secretive manner, and you share the details of your daily freakouts and freakishly itchy legs with only a relatively small, select group of family and friends, and, of course, the Internet.”
But NOW your physique begins to expose the truth and/or confuse passersby, because, “OK, is she pregnant or has her stomach just gotten bigger? Also, upon closer inspection, doesn’t she have a disproportionately large head?”:
Week 20-21
And there I am, all vulnerable and exposed to the public as I make my half-hourly trips to the restroom. Because now people are going to know my secret, encroaching on my (obviously skewed) sense of personal space without a bit of remorse. They will know that inside of me is this lovely little boy:
18-week-old baby
And while I am very excited about meeting our Owen, and while I am coming to terms with the fact that my body is co-habitated, I don’t know how I feel about strangers at the mall knowing, you know? Unless, of course, they come bearing gifts.
“Until right now because you realize that you are in fact a giant, hypothetical liar like your husband, because, hello, you have a blog on the worldwide Web (!) on which you have exposed yourself entirely and on which you can hardly seem to write about anything else.”
So is this a statement of self-realization that maybe you kind of DID want to have kids? Like your husband actually WAS good at Monopoly, and only thought he wasn’t? Because if so, Cody is gonna win like, 1000 bets
Funny, Elise. Cody is most definitely never going to win that bet! I MEANT that I’m hypocritical because I gave this long speech about how I was trying to maintain privacy, yet all the while I was broadcasting my life to the whole world.
Oh good. Last thing Cody needs is MORE reasons to gloat. I enjoy proving him wrong as often as possible.
And, for the record, I am thrilled you are having a kid. This way, when I have one, you can tell me all about what to expect, from the overthinkers perspective we both, sadly, share
Also, I KIND of am bursting with excitement to meet my NEW NEPHEW OWEN!!!!
Oh my goodness…he is so cute! That’s the first pic of Owen I have seen and he looks perfect!
And let me know if a stranger in the mall comes bearing gifts…that never happened to me but maybe you are luckier than I!
If it helps ease the awkwardness of EVERYONE, including the check out lady at the grocery store, knowing: You make a really cute pregnant lady!
I really dislike cute pregnant women such as you. I mean, I like you but I dislike that you are cute while pregnant. You jerk. Let me know where you are going to register so I can send you and Owen Harbottle-Carter a gift. Ok, just throwing the Harbottle-Carter out there, it has a nice ring to it.
I’ve been there. Where you wanted to make sure people knew you were pregnant and not just gaining weight, but at the same time, weren’t 100% comfortable making the announcement.
Over time you get more comfortable with it…but the annoying comments people feel inclined to say to you about your changing body? Those get old, quickly.
good luck!
Aw, look at LC! He’s going to be cute, I can tell. Thanks for updating your blog twice in short period of time. There for a while I thought you’d let it go.
1. You are the cutest pregnant woman ever. EVER.
2. I use the restroom on a half hourly basis. I’m not sure if that’s good for you or bad for me.. Who cares anyway.
Amy,
I don’t have much feedback, but I wanted you to know that I enjoy reading about this journey.
Owen. It is nice.
Also, did Kyle really do that Monopoly thing to you? Bad news.
Amy,
I love reading about your journey through pregnancy. You two are going to make wonderful parents. I want to know, have they started touching your belly yet? I never liked it when people, many I didn’t even know, would come up to me at the mall and Wal-mart, touch my belly and talk about the baby. Like they were my long lost best friend.
Good Luck
The day random strangers decide it’s ok to fondle your bump is the day I read about you over the AP wire. I can see it now:
“Multiple assault charges are to be brought against Amy Carter, a pregnant woman involved in a physical altercation that left two others seeking treatment for numerous broken bones and abrasions. Witnesses told police two smiling women approached Carter, 25, after finding the lure of a noticeably pregnant midsection too strong to resist. The meeting soon took a violent turn when Carter momentarily glanced away while the women both reached for her bump. Exactly what transpired in the next seconds has yet to be unraveled but police say both women had to be transported to the hospital by emergency services and are being held overnight for observation. When questioned, an wildly unrepentant Carter defended her actions as, “completely reasonable and possibly expected following their blatant disregard of my personal space.” She has hopes this situation will serve as a warning to other would-be offenders in the coming weeks and advises, “If the desire is too much and you must rub a belly then you should get a dog and keep your damn hands away from me.”