Nom de Plume

It’s early days yet–I’m only about 8 weeks pregnant, but I’m not very good about not telling anyone, so why not just tell the world? (Helloooo …..) I never thought I wanted kids, but back in April had a chemical pregnancy–and then we decided why not? From then to now, I’ve been ambivalent about it, but now that it’s real, I’m happy about it. Steve, in his quiet, undemonstrative way, is over the moon. (To wit: I called him at work to tell him; that night he walked in the door and when Harry ran up to him, cackled, “Mommy’s getting a doggy replacement, Harry–you’re out on your own now!”)

It’s funny because I can’t say that my biological clock ever started really ticking. Steve and I have talked about having a kid, and the best reason we could come up with for having one was that we might regret not having one. Which didn’t seem like a very good reason. Then all of a sudden, it seemed like as good a reason as any. And the fact is, I’ll be 35 this year so it’s not like there’s this huge amount of time left. (Well, I guess you could argue that if you wanted.)

So here we are.