I was really hoping that the spotting would stop before I left for NZ so that I could tell my mother about the pregnancy without the joy being tainted by fear. And it did! I couldn’t even wait to get out of the airport before I told her. I asked her whether my brother and sister-in-law were still planning to host Christmas this year – yes, there were. I confirmed that H and I would (for the first time in years) both be able to come to NZ for Christmas, and then asked Mum whether she though my brother and SIL would mind if we brought someone with us. She told me later that she was trying to think of a … way of saying that actually, no, she wasn’t sure that would be appropriate when I added… “he’ll only be seven weeks old”. (We’ve been referring to the baby as “he” only because I can’t stand the idea of using “it”). It took her a few seconds to register what I was saying, but then when she did… oh my goodness was she excited! We talked about babies the whole way home (and most of the night, and the next day). She’s already started trying to decide what she wants to be called: Grandma, Nana, something else entirely…
The photos below are from the Mission Bay Jazz Festival which Mum and I attended with my brother and SIL.
On Sunday the extended family on my father’s side gathered at his place for a barbecue. My last surviving grandparent (Papa) was there, two of my three brothers (and therefore two of my three sisters-in-law) as well as my niece and nephew. It was a lovely evening, and so wonderful to be able to spend some quality time with the family. I was the first to arrive, and my dad immediately offered to pour me a glass of wine. I nonchalantly declined and suggested a juice instead. I am not, nor have I ever been, much of a drinker, so I truly didn’t expect that my refusal of a glass of wine would even raise an eyebrow. How wrong I was! The next words out of my father’s mouth were “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”. I didn’t know what to say! I hadn’t been planning on telling my dad, but I wasn’t prepared to outright lie to him either. (The reason I didn’t want to tell him is that I wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep it a secret. When my oldest brother was expecting his first baby Dad told me before my brother was able to, even though he’d been sworn to secrecy). My hesitation was all the answer he needed: “That’s a ‘yes’, isn’t it”. My father and step-mother were delighted with the news, and I (repeatedly) requested their silence, so here’s hoping they keep the secret for a few more weeks. Apparently my father is quite good a knowing when a woman is pregnant (must be an occupational hazard) but he told me that 5 weeks is the earliest he’s picked it!
So, that’s a brief summary of my trip (the important bits, anyway). I’d been feeling tired and a bit seedy at times since just after 4 weeks, but my morning sickness kicked into gear on the flight home to Melbourne. I was going to regale you all with tales of my many trips to the bathroom in the last week, but all this productivity has exhausted me, so I’ll save that story for another day. I can hear you all sighing in disappointment, saying “oh but Tio, we really want to hear all about your vomit” but I’m afraid you’ll just have to be patient.