Babies Tale

My husband and I knew we wanted to try to get pregnant as soon as we were married. I was just shy of 30 and my husband was on his way to 40. We both knew it could take time before we had any news to share with family. As luck would have it, the news came quickly! No sooner were we home from our honeymoon when the telltale “hit-by-a-bus” feeling swept over me one afternoon. I knew without test or missed period that I was pregnant. We felt so blessed and were so excited; we couldn’t wait to share the news with our families. But, we were cautious as well. We wanted to wait at least 10 weeks before spilling the beans.

At five weeks, my mom called me and asked me if I wanted a favorite family hutch. It had been in my aunt’s kitchen, and she no longer had room for it. Mom told me my husband and I could carry it, “No problem.” Yes, problem. I was pregnant! I couldn’t carry furniture! I tried to dance my way around it, telling my mom I recently pulled my back and suggesting one of the male cousins be on hand to help with the move. My usually sympathetic mother wasn’t making things easy. She suggested I just wait a week and move it when my back felt better. She told me the boys were busy, again reassuring me I had moved heavier and would have no problem with the hutch. I talked the dilemma over with my husband, and we came to only one conclusion; we had to tell them we were pregnant.

Despite our original plan to wait, I couldn’t contain my excitement. We planned on driving to Pennsylvania that weekend, and I spent the rest of the week planning the perfect way to break the news. At first, my husband and I thought we’d divide and conquer. We would catch my dad when he was on the computer and my mom in the kitchen. We would go our separate ways, share the good news and watch as they ran across the house to share it with each other. It was perfect! Perfect, that is, until I thought of something better.

I went to the store and bought two baby bibs. One said, “I love Grandma”, and the other proclaimed the same love for Grandpa. I wrapped the bibs individually, being careful to mark them correctly. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise by giving Grandma Grandpa’s present!

When we arrived at my parents’ house, we brought them together on the front porch. I excused myself and returned with two tiny packages in hand. I casually told my parents we brought something back for them from our honeymoon (which was really the truth!) and handed them each their coded gift bag.

Seconds passed like hours as they opened their gifts. Each pulled out and unfolded a dainty little bib. Each looked closely at the writing, then at each other and then at me. I just started crying. So did my husband. So did my parents.

The news spread like wildfire after that. We took turns on the phone and cell phone, first calling my husband’s parents, then the rest of the family. So much for waiting 10 weeks! Good news is too hard to keep secret!

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