Ben had been asking why my tummy was so big. (Mommy has been eating lots of cookies.) He has babies on his mind, as his best friend at school has a new baby sister, and he has been telling me he’s like one too. And the kid’s alert; there’s been baby planning talk around the house. He knows that babies grow in mommy’s wombs, and that the womb is somewhere around the tummy.
Over the past two weeks, he’s been patting my tummy, saying “There’s a baby in there. Hi little baby!” I’ve told him that babies take a long time to grow, and that they start very very small. Sometimes, they end up leaving before they become babies. (I tell this for both of us.) And also, I told him there was nothing in there right now.
I was wrong.
It ends up that I was pregnant at my physical nearly two weeks ago. The one where they thought they found a lump, had me do a urine test for pregnancy (neg) and sent me immediately for a mammogram and ultrasound. After the exhaustion of the scare, I thought my symptoms were typical cyclical ones and waited for the tide to roll out. No tide.
Nearly a week later, I break out the clearblueeasy stick, and in one (not three) minute, the little display read: Pregnant in a sans-serif font. Maybe Lucida. There was a scramble to find out what the mammogram might have done, and wtf happened with the urine test. (Short answer: minimal risk given focus of mammogram, and longer interesting explanation for wtf.)
And although it’s not prudent to announce, given how many pregnancies don’t get past 12 weeks, we are telling people. My symptoms are almost identical to those I had with Ben – namely I am a dream for third graders with all the musical gas I produce, I need to eat to keep from feeling nauseous, and I’m very happy.
When we told Ben, I told him there was something in my womb, and that it might become a baby, but we have to wait a while to know for sure. He gets it, and with a little pat, tells me to take care of the something.