Well, I'm pregnant again. (If you're not aware and you need a moment, please, be my guest.)
Last week we decided to break the news to Jackson. He didn't believe us. He kept saying over and over, "You're kidding me, Mom." I finally convinced him I was NOT playing a joke and his excitement and smiles seemed to move up his neck and face and come oozing out his dimples. I wish my reaction had been such pure happiness.
I have had a month for the shock and disbelief to wear off but had I written a blog much earlier I may have been tempted to insert symbolic curse words like $#*! and ... well, probably just that one. In the last month through the nausea and exhaustion I have decided what's done is done and of course we will be excited to add another J to the train.
Two weeks ago my sister Susan and her family came to visit and since I was not telling Jackson yet I didn't tell her kids either. We didn't want the information to leak so our code lingo was something along the lines of, "You know, when the Italian comes" or "The Italian is coming in November". I am so embarrassed at our inability to master any form of birth control, I was tempted to keep it up for as long as possible. Instead of telling people I am pregnant, I decided, we could say we were getting an exchange student from Italy. I guess the breakdown would occur when I get a big belly. But maybe I'm just getting fat from practicing my Italian cooking? Because you know, the Italian is coming, ready or not.
I started a journal:
Million Dollar Pregnancy