Alright, y'all. I did it. It came out of my mouth. To strangers no less. It went kind of like this:
"Can you please help me with my bag? I usually wouldn't ask, but I'm p........"
And then I giggled and snickered a little and hoped no one heard me. And then I did it again,
"I'm sorry. Can I please have the aisle seat? I'm p......... and need to walk a bit on the flight. Oh thank you so much. I really appreciate it."
And then, and this one was kind of tough, yet again,
"Oh gosh, I'd love a free margarita, but I can't. I'm expecting." (because, above all, I have a deep and intense need to explain why anyone in their right mind would turn down a free drink.)
Wow. Wowy. Wow.
Where to begin. I guess with this little image.
And I thought when I saw something on screen, it would make things feel more, you know, real. Actual. Realized. But I still sauntered through the rest of the day in a state of shock. Even after my RE told me the next time she saw me (Sept 4) we'd be listening for heartbeats, warned me not to eat big fish and recommended I call my local ob/gyn now to start setting up appointments.
Um, ok. But first I should probably let her know that it seems that I have reason.
So, hubby has been giddy. Giddy as a schoolgirl. I have been, well, pretty tired and very crampy and beginning today, just a little nauseated in the morning.
Am I a sick f*ck if I tell you I am loving every minute? Every crampy minute.
This week has been a bit of an adventure. I'm actually clear over on the other coast attending a conference for work. An event I've been looking forward to for months, until hubby got uncharacteristically worried and cautious-sounding the evening before the plane: Just remember to walk around. Does L. know how to give you your shots? Will she be ok? Will you be ok? Are you going to have enough time to rest? Are you going to be ok on the plane? In the airports? Are you going to be OK?
And I laughed and hugged and reassured but damn it if I wasn't filled with a little bit of anxiety that wasn't there just a minute prior.
Is this what being a parent feels like? No really, I'm serious. Just a little tinge of nervous for all those things out of your control not because you give a shit about yourself but for how said uncontrollable factors may impact your loved ones?
I can honestly say, I have never in my life had these feelings before. Ever. And I have placed myself amidst far too many uncontrollable factors and in situations beyond my control.
But fear not. All went well. Very well. The flight was smooth and included the following highlights:
- a phone call from a wrong number that turned into a lovely and uplifting conversation ending with a heartfelt wish for me a safe flight;
- a phone call from my boss assuring me I could stay an extra night or try to grab a non-redeye flight home if I wasn't feeling up to it;
- an early arrival in California due to scoring the last empty seat on an flight that left DC 3 hours earlier than mine;
- a free upgrade to Economy Plus since it was the seat I scored - that's new airplanese for "a seat that doesn't suck;"
- a free meal on flight since I volunteered to switch seats with a little one that was too little to be in the emergency exit row (but didn't need to switch after all).
Now, I'm resting in the commuter terminal getting ready to begin the first leg of my long and (alas, redeye) series of flights home. An earlier trip to the airport didn't produce the previous luck I had with standbys and upgrades. But it did give me the following conversation with my Somalian cab driver:
"Where are you going?"
"Do you have children?"
"No. not yet."
"Oh. Well, when you do I hope you have twins. You should have twins. I really, really hope you do. they are the best. I have twin girls and they are a joy. But for you, I hope you have a boy and a girl because then you will be happy and your husband can be happy."
Well how about that.
It's been a lovely trip.
(footnote: as of today, I have been knocked up for six weeks and 2 days)