You might not know that just a week ago Monday I learned I was pregnant. I got excited. I told select people.
Grandparents knew, close friends knew, and worst of all, my kids knew. Should I have waited more than a millisecond to tell my kids I was pregnant? Probably, but the joy, you guys. I couldn’t contain the joy. I didn’t want to.
When my husband and I decided to sit down and share the big news with our kids last week, we were greeted with opposing reactions. BooBoo, 6, was elated, jumping up and down and already talking to the baby about all the things they would do. Boy Wonder, 10, met the news with reservation. I expected as much, he’s older; he knows – at least in part – what a new baby brings. After a little quick math in his head regarding number of family members versus bedrooms, he had concerns. Where would the baby sleep? Would he need to move downstairs? Would I have enough time for him? I decided to give him a few days to work out his emotions before we’d talk about it again, but sadly, I never got that chance. Six days after learning I was pregnant, my baby was gone…[read more]