Background: I'm 39 years old and I just got married a little more than a month ago to the best man in the world for me, Bill. He's 30. (If you just said 'cougar' in your head you are not allowed to read any further.) I have a ten-year-old daughter named Hannah who is the best kid -- everyone says so and we agree. We also have a terrier mix named Cole, whom we rescued from a shelter in February. He loves everyone, except for Frank. Frank is our great friend and business partner -- he also officiated our wedding. So... caught up?
Now... the thing is... hardly anyone knows we're pregnant. I'd say maybe 4 people outside of Bill and me. Hannah doesn't even now yet. I'm only about 7 weeks along (according to my very unscientific calculations) and the "safe" time to tell people is after 12 weeks.
That said, I have a feeling that more people know I'm pregnant than we think. My really-never-flat-before belly looks even more not-flat. I've been wearing the babydoll tops that are in fashion now out of necessity; and only two pairs of jeans fit. If you look close, you can see the baby bump already.
The other big clue, especially for those who work in offices down the hall, is that I've been wearing the carpet thin between my office and the bathroom. I'm unbelievably thirsty all the time and in satiating that thirst I'm pretty much living in the first stall on the right in the ladies room. I'm sure my travels back and forth haven't gone unnoticed. Everyone's just too polite to ask.
We're actually quite surprised to be pregnant this soon in trying. I have a six-month supply of ovulation predictors and pregnancy tests taking up room underneath my bathroom sink. It's a fantastic surprise, given all the gloom and doom that women my age are given when they try to conceive... but a surprise nonetheless. I did know, pretty quickly after conceiving, that I was pregnant. It was hard waiting the allotted week to take the pee stick test. Even in my knowing, I was still shocked enough to say "Oh, wow" aloud. I didn't even find a cool or romantic way to tell Bill, I just put it in front of his face while he watched TV and said basically that two pink lines meant I was pregnant. Poor guy turned white. He's better now though.
As this is my second pregnancy, I'm constantly comparing and contrasting (like in the old high school essays) this pregnancy with my last. Yes, I know... my last pregnancy was about eleven years ago, but it's amazing what comes back to you. The heartburn has come back amazingly fast, in fact. But I'm surprised that with my 'advanced age' (preggo books are quick to tell you that anyone over 35 is pretty old to even consider getting pregnant) hasn't come some really heavy duty stuff. I'm not nearly as tired as I was the first time and I don't have nearly as much nausea. I'm ecstatic about both of these things, by the way. It is getting harder to cook, though. Handling raw meat of any kind is not appealing. At all.
Today at 3pm is the first prenatal appointment. Bill and I are both nervous and excited. Hopefully we'll see the heartbeat. We'll see if there's one or more (another thing the preggo books like to point out, older moms have more of a chance of getting multiples) heartbeats. We'll get a doctor-approved due date. We'll get a starting weight (Fun. Not.) It's all kinda surreal... crazy. More soon.
Bill and I pre-preggo, and Hannah:
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