Thursday, June 26, 2014

Now it's a puppy

I discovered I was pregnant early in the morning as my husband was getting ready for his fourth day of his brand new full-time job. We lived in a little apartment close to Pittsburgh International Airport and when the very dark congratulatory line appeared in much less time than the package indicated it might, I said, "Well, I'm pregnant."

Tim was in the shower. He responded, "Oh shit!"

I had a gorgeous patio garden outside our apartment. There was
a contest. I won.
And so our parenting journey began. We opted to tell our parents in person a few weeks later, gathering them together at my childhood home for dinner. That there might be big news was not on anyone's radar.

Tim wanted to be the one to tell. I was okay with that because frankly, I felt slightly bashful about the whole matter. I had this friend in high school that once confessed he thought it would be embarrassing to inform friends and family that his future wife was expecting on account of how everyone would then know that they'd, er, made the beast with two backs. I thought that was perfectly ridiculous at the time.

Pregnant and facing my mommy and daddy and mother-in-law, I finally understood the poor guy's point-of-view. An interesting side note: that high school friend was on his fourth kid last I heard. I guess he got over it.

So Tim got to deliver our rather earth shattering news. We were three months shy of our second wedding anniversary. Our public stance had always been that we were never ever going to have children.

"We're going to have a baby," he announced. Or maybe he said, "I got one past the goalie." Or, "Jo is knocked up." I can't really remember the exact words. He clearly communicated that I was with child. That much I know.

"You're getting a puppy," my mother said.

By now, I think Mom understood it was not a puppy.

"No, Mum, it's not a puppy," I told her with a little sadness in my voice.

"It's a puppy, right? This is a joke, isn't it? You're getting a puppy," she persisted.

And I think my mother spent most of the first trimester thinking we were getting a puppy. We laugh about that now, how my mom thought Julia was going to be a puppy.

When we finally did get puppies, they came with much less fanfare. There were no announcements, just flurries of emails with pictures of cute fuzz balls.

This weekend, my mom is bringing home her new puppy, a chocolate shih tzu they'll call Toby. She's been joking that she's "expecting." That seems rather appropriate. Baby vs. puppy conversations have always confused us.