You're Pregnant and not telling people

S: Do you know why I'm happy?

M: Because you're married to such a good-looking person who also happens to be incredibly humble.

M: I guess one out of two ain't bad.

S: Yeah, you are pretty humble.

M: Ouch, my overweening pride.

One of the best periods of time when you're expecting is the time period when you're not telling other people that you're pregnant. You do this because as you learn and incredibly high number of women miscarry. However, it is a strange time when you feel as if you're keeping a secret from everyone you talk to. And, the main point to grab onto is, you pretty much feel better than them. I obviously missed my career calling to be in the CIA. Really, it's hard to get that sort of pleasure of knowing something that other people don't. Thus, when friends say things like, "Oh man, wait until you have children. You'll change your tune." You can laugh with them, and also at them because you're about to have kids and your tune is going to stay however the hell you want it.

I guess this time really showed me that Alex Trebek comes off like such a d bag because he's always so pleased to be holding so much information that others don't have. How smug would I be in that same situation? At least as smug as Alex Trebek. Especially if I had that sweet stache he sported for a bit. The odd part about keeping it from other people is that you become convinced that they'll find out anyway. You have whole bookshelves converted from Dostoevsky to "What to Expect when you're expecting" and "Baby Bargains," and "You're pregnant but not telling any of your friends." And you sort of think that people will notice these things that you're acutely more aware of. I suppose it's like a physical blemish, which people tend to regard as catastrophic on there own person, but hardly noticeable on others.

Ie "You'll worry less about what people think about you when you realize how seldom they do."

Anyhow as it turns out the only way that people ever figure out that your little couple is expecting is if you stop drinking. S doesn't actually even drink all that much, but apparently turning down a couple of glasses of wine is a sure sign that you're expecting. I have no idea how people found out during the Prohibition era. I bet a lot of children were just born into the world without anyone even noticing that the mother had ever been pregnant. It was probably really tough on everyone, especially the fathers who couldn't drink cognac in the waiting room while the child was being born. The real problem of course is that indelicate question, "Are you expecting," that can only be asked when the answer is a certain yes. Any violation of this rule results in an immediate revocation of friendship/acquantinship privileges.

I think the process of not telling people was both thrilling and hard on S. For me, it brought me back to the little league diamond of my youth. Blue-billed cap turned low, shading my eyes. The sun a hot red flare in the sky. In the outfield, the kids are picking at grass and watching gophers near the chalk of the foul lines. I stare in at the batter, waving his piece of metal behind his head. My cleats dig in to the rubber, and I gaze in at the catcher to get the sign. I nod. And in that moment before I throw the pitch, between the head nod and the wind up, the catcher and I share that quiet secret. Push off the plastic, step into dirt, and release.