Telling the family was a whole lot less of a hoopla than we had thought.
(We are staying with my in-laws for Christmas, so we have her father [her mother passed some years ago], and her twin sister [and husband and baby] and older sister to announce to... except we have already told her twin sister and husband, so in practice it is only her father and big sister. Doesn't make it any less nervy. And what's more, I actually *enjoy* speaking in public. Work that one out.)
Lying in bed in the morning, we were still discussing whether or not to say anything, at breakfast, as it it pre-first-scan time, and in the end stuck to the plan as Christmas is one of the few chances when we can tell people together, in person.
So after a few deep breaths at the breakfast table, we broke the news.
"Congratulations. Now, where's the butter," just about sums it up. I'm not sure if I prefer the low-key reaction or would rather have had the bells bangs lights and whistles. Adulation and applause would have been good.
Our reluctance to tell people has been all about waiting until after the first scan and confirming that everything is OK. It has been horrible keeping the secret - it somehow squashes the enjoyment - and yet now the family knows, I expect more from them.
In the end, I am glad that they know, and my worries about the baby, their reactions and all the rest of it, are pretty insignificant.
Don't take yourself so god-damn seriously!
(We are staying with my in-laws for Christmas, so we have her father [her mother passed some years ago], and her twin sister [and husband and baby] and older sister to announce to... except we have already told her twin sister and husband, so in practice it is only her father and big sister. Doesn't make it any less nervy. And what's more, I actually *enjoy* speaking in public. Work that one out.)
Lying in bed in the morning, we were still discussing whether or not to say anything, at breakfast, as it it pre-first-scan time, and in the end stuck to the plan as Christmas is one of the few chances when we can tell people together, in person.
So after a few deep breaths at the breakfast table, we broke the news.
"Congratulations. Now, where's the butter," just about sums it up. I'm not sure if I prefer the low-key reaction or would rather have had the bells bangs lights and whistles. Adulation and applause would have been good.
Our reluctance to tell people has been all about waiting until after the first scan and confirming that everything is OK. It has been horrible keeping the secret - it somehow squashes the enjoyment - and yet now the family knows, I expect more from them.
In the end, I am glad that they know, and my worries about the baby, their reactions and all the rest of it, are pretty insignificant.
Don't take yourself so god-damn seriously!
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