As of today, I’m 7 weeks, 4 days pregnant. Due 8/4/18. I don’t particularly feel 7w4d pregnant, but that’s what the doctor tells me I am, and what my ultrasound reveals. Given I went through infertility treatment, I know pretty much exactly when conception happened. Isn’t science amazing?
Anyway, I’ve yet to tell my parents I’m pregnant. There are a few reasons for this. One, it’s ok to wait until your second trimester to tell anyone you’re with child, given miscarriage rates are high.
But the reality is I haven’t told my parents yet because they are the most annoying parents in the world. While they’d be momentarily thrilled, that would be followed up with a whole host of questions and requests that I don’t need as added stress right now. But I have to tell them eventually and preferably not on the day baby pops out. Or after.
I also don’t want to tell them over the phone. It feels like something that should be told in person. Living on opposite coasts, it makes it hard to announce this thing on the first day of my second trimester. Plus, with this horrific morning sickness I hear so much about (haven’t felt a lot yet, knock on wood) I’m scared to make ANY travel plans until I’m out of the woods.
That said, I’m going to suck it up and travel to my parents as a surprise on President’s Day weekend. My younger, unmarried sister is helping me with the surprise. While she refuses my brilliant idea to hand my parents boxes saying “you’re going to be grandparents” and have them, for a moment, think it’s her who is pregnant… with me walking in the door a second later saying “don’t be silly, I’m the pregnant one,” she’s still going to help out with some kind of surprise Namely, she plans to visit them that weekend, so it’s easy for me to add on to the fun without my parents complaining that they weren’t prepared for a visitor.
I’m not sure what their reaction will be. I spoke to them on the phone this week and they definitely have grand babies on the mind because they visited my (younger) cousin who recently had a little girl. My parents are pretty awful – excited to not be an awful parent as much as possible when Baby E is born. Although my parents know I suffer with infertility, they still manage to make wonderful comments like “It sure would be wonderful to have another person in the family” (dad) and “too bad you can’t get a child tax credit” (mom.) Thanks parents. Luckily, I’m taking the brunt of these comments when I actually am pregnant, but they don’t know that. Let’s not forget the classic line on the same call “you’d tell us if you were pregnant, right? You’re not pregnant yet?” (mom.)
Ugh. I’ve finally outgrown my dream of having parents who are not super narcissistic and think about other people’s feelings just a little bit. That’s not going to happen. But with my dad sick with a terminal illness and my mother running out of things to talk about with her friends poolside (she constantly requests that I write down what it is I do exactly so she can explain it to people. Trust me, mom, it’s not that exciting – and I’ve explained it to you about 100 times.)
Anyway, I digress. I know they will be happy about future grandchild in their own narcissistic ways, but at least it will give them something to be happy about. And I care, why? I don’t know. They’re my parents. They’re people. I’m slightly less narcissistic than they are. I want to see my dad in a good mood again for a while. He at least as an excuse for his awfulness, dealing with terminal cancer now for 10 years when the doctors originally told him he had two years to live. I’m sure it will be a great feeling to know he might get to meet his grandchild. That’s, I imagine, something to live for.
Waiting until week 16 of my pregnancy to tell my parents definitely risks pissing them off — guilt trips on the why didn’t you tell us sooner? But, hopefully when I show up in person they’ll understand why I wanted to wait.
