We have news.
Big news. Huge changes ahead. Big surprise, though I’m not sure why it’s a surprise because it was all approached deliberately and planfully.
Still. It’s a shock, and we’re trying to wrap our heads around it, and we have a ton to do and that right quick.
And, no, I won’t post about it here, just yet. It’s on Facebook, should you happen to know me over that way, and eventually it’ll come out on the blog, because there’s really no way to avoid it. But for the moment, I’m not interested in sharing big important life plans with Willem’s mother, aunt and mother’s friend, who have done astonishing things to my blog stats lately but who certainly haven’t made the slightest effort to even acknowledge the inappropriateness of their behavior at the memorial last weekend, much less tried to make any improvements to the damage they’ve done to their relationships with Willem and the kids (we won’t be pretending that they would even want to try and make things better with me).
So, they can wait. Chances are they’ll find out someday.
In the meantime, no, I’m not pregnant. Not at all, in the least, tiniest little bit. The big news has nothing to do with fertility, or with physical health in general. This is the down-side to letting people know that we’ve been trying to conceive for a while: when I make the slightest mention of words like “news” or “surprise,” the knee-jerk assumption is that my ovaries have suddenly decided to behave themselves.
It’s also a good thing, truly. Beyond good, heading into great and almost all the way into astounding.
But I’m also scared to death because I have so much to do and so little time and such dreadfully eroded self-confidence after so many months of bad news and difficulty. So my reticence here is not entirely a matter of in-law-avoidance; I’m also simply not ready to put it all into fully articulated, mapped-out paragraphs.
Anyway. Stay tuned…