the telling begins

I can't really say the news has fully sunk in. When did you start believing your were pregnant? I know that I can say the words: "I'm pregnant" and that those words reflect a biological fact. I know that the collection of symptoms I feel are all explained by that very biological fact. Yet, I am truthfully still at the stage of skeptical bemusement.

The word is getting out, although I am titrating the flow at which it goes very carefully (trying to). Some of the immediate family now knows. Friends that supported us through Infertility Hell also know. In four weeks, if all continues to go well, there will be more people to tell. Like my dad for instance. I have chosen not to tell him before we reach T2. Explaining the whole egg donation situation to my dad will be tricky. Not that he will be upset or negative about it, more that it may be difficult for him to fully understand it. He gets confused by medicine and science. He never made it past grade 10. He's not an idiot, but he is not at all worldly. Bottom line is that if I'm happy, he will be happy. But I anticipate it to be tricky. And I insist on telling him about the egg donation. I feel strongly that he has a right to know that the child won't be genetically related to me and our side of the family. Obviously, Mr. A and I have fully embraced egg donation and Sattva's generous gift. But both my parents have a right to know this fact so that they can do what they need to do to come to a place of acceptance.

We met my mom and stepdad for a few days in Toronto over Easter weekend. I might have chosen to wait to tell my mom, but I don't see her all that often since we live about 600km (375 miles for my American friends) away from one another. So it made sense to tell her now. There was also the fact that Mr. A's parents knew that we were going through the procedure and were told that it resulted in a pregnancy early on that made it imperative to tell her. We didn't want her to feel left out because we told them and not her.

The telling was very fun. We were at lunch on Saturday and I busted out a little board book I bought in preparation for the reveal. My mom is a chartered accountant by trade, although she fries bigger fish these days, so I thought a book about counting would be up her alley, and part of our child's education she would certainly like to be involved with. And besides, all the 'grandmother to be' books portrayed antithetical grandmothers to the kind she will be (i.e. she will not bake cookies, knit booties or sew quilts). She opened the present and was trying to figure out what cockatoos were and why we were giving her a book about cockatoos. "Mom, you'll need this at your house. You'll want to read it to a little person." It was my stepdad who blurted it out, and much to my surprise, he started shedding actual tears. So did my mom. It was great. I'd never seen them so emotional. The rest of the weekend had quite the celebratory tone.

It's funny how I had idealized my mom's reaction to our donor. In retrospect, her reaction was exactly in keeping with what I know of her. I had imagined her being immensely grateful and wanting to buy Sattva an expensive gift. In actuality, she was cautious at first. She asked if Sattva had any claims on this baby and could she later on "take it back". Mr. A and I quickly nipped that issue in the bud. It felt a bit strange to us because we know and love Sattva, and understand why she donated. I can't say I fault my mom for her reaction. I can think of it as her wanting to make sure I was protected because she cares about me. And I also feel glad we told my mom and stepdad about the egg donation part of this beautiful equation at the start of the weekend because they had time to ask questions during the rest of the weekend. I think by the end, my mom did not feel cautious anymore about the donor. I am also planning for them to meet when my mom and step dad come for my convocation in June.

I am thinking about the next wave of announcements come June. At that point, we (read: I) will feel comfortable with the word spreading, although I certainly won't be posting an ultrasound picture on fb. As I approach this stage, I am thinking of those I could sadden with our good news, just as I felt devastated so many times in the past with pregnancy announcements. There are of course those women in my life who I know the news might be hard to take. And then there are those who might get hurt but that I won't know until it's too late. I realize that it won't be me who is hurting them, but infertility who is the assaulting party. Nevertheless, it feels very strange to be on the other side right now, and to be close to having this great, big, happy news to share.