The worst-kept secret

A secret is really only a secret if you don’t tell anyone. But when you share the so-called secret with one person and then another and then another and another and another, it’s not really a secret anymore, is it?

But for those of you dear readers who don’t yet know, I’m officially ready to make the secret not a secret anymore. I’m pregnant. Twelve weeks along now – meaning that even if I wanted to still keep it a secret, the speed at which I’m growing out my clothes would put an end to that idea.

Although planned, it still came as a bit of a shock in August, when honest to God, I grabbed a calendar and counted, twice, before I realized I really was late. And when I told Ryan, he grabbed a calendar and told me I must've counted wrong. At which point, I decided to go to Shoppers and pick up a pregnancy test. I figured there was no way it would be positive, so I actually bought a two-pack. The second test is now collecting dust at the back of my bathroom cupboard.

So far, this pregnancy has been very different from my first – in a good way. With my first, I spent the first three months living with nausea; day in and day out. I even went through a period of a few weeks where I couldn’t sit up in bed without first eating a few saltine crackers.

With this pregnancy I haven’t completely escaped the nausea – but it hasn’t been an all day every day for three months kind of thing. When it hits, it hits hard – and usually at the most inconvenient times, such as when we were driving from Toronto to Montreal and are between rest stations. I also discovered how great the anti-nausea bracelets can be. (You know, the ones people wear on cruise ships to avoid sea sickness.) I wish I had discovered those the first time around.

I’m also far less tired than I was when I was pregnant with Austin. The first time, I actually had to fake sick and leave work some days in the first trimester because I was so tired. Then I would trudge home and nap for three or four hours. I would be in bed before 9 p.m. and I would nap on the weekends. This time, no need to fake sick and go home and sleep and usually I can stay awake until 10. Although I do still nap pretty much every weekend.

The only thing that sucks so far about this pregnancy is I’ve been hopped up on asthma drugs for the last month or so. My doctor told me that women with asthma get sicker when pregnant about 30 per cent of the time. Let’s hope this is just a blip and I’ll soon feel better because another six months of asthma drugs and my kid may come out high as a kite! (Kidding, I think. My doctor also told me research has found it’s better for the mom and the baby to treat asthma in pregnant women aggressively.)

So there’s my big secret that hasn’t really been much of a secret. We’re both excited about the new baby, and we keep telling Austin that he’s going to be a big brother. We even tried to teach him to say ‘baby’. (But all we got out of him was ‘waba’.) But I have to admit, every now and then, especially on a day when Austin’s being moody, I think to myself: “what the hell are we doing!?"