Private or prickly?

Sometimes I have to ask myself if I am merely a private person or a prickly antisocial thing that doesn't like sharing.

Well, work has been exhausting lately. I was run off my feet the other day overseeing the youth volunteer fair, and I guess it must have hit me like a ton of bricks after the event was safely a thing of the past and the adrenaline had ceased to course through my body.

A coworker opened with the following rather frightening gambit, "Do you mind if I ask you something personal?"
Instant dread.

"Are you pregnant? It's just that you seem so tired."

Now, keep in mind I am only 7 weeks along. I haven't even told my parents yet. The only people who know are Liz, Andrew, and Jon. I didn't like to, but I answered this coworker with a lie -- I denied that I was. After she had gone, it struck me that it was really rude of her to put me in a position where I either had to lie (in order to keep my special news to myself for a bit longer) or put it all out there. And it's not just her. I've been asked regularly for the last two years by various coworkers when I plan on starting a family. Now, with it being common knowledge that Jon and I are looking to move, there's even more fuel for the fire. Why on earth would we be thinking of moving to a bigger place if we didn't have plans for a bambino?

Anyway, I shouldn't let all of this bother me too much. It ain't worth it, and while I'm sure some of the probing springs from idle curiosity, some of it also comes from a better place -- like my coworkers are genuinely interested in seeing my life proceed happily.

In other news, I told Lisa the other day that while I am sooooo flattered she asked me to apply for her job when she goes on her mat. leave, I won't be able to since I, myself, am expecting as well. It would have been a really great experience -- get out of public service for a while, meet with publishers regularly to discuss books (!), coordinate a rock show....But, this baby was meant to be, and it is a far bigger deal than any job could ever be.

P.S. Dr. Dixon was horrified when I told her about the snoopy coworker. A little validation.

The Chevitts Make it Official

In their blog, the Chevitts aka Beau and Julia claim that tax breaks and "love" are their reasons for getting married. Well, it was obvious from their wedding ceremony yesterday that unequivocal love, without the quotation marks, is what prompted their nuptuals. As Jon jokingly said, Beau cried like a woman throughout. It was really moving witnessing how moved he was.

The two got married at the Academy of Spherical Arts in Toronto. It's an airy, light-filled space that used to be a factory for high-end billiards tables (think elaborately carved solid wood legs and plush velvet). The venue had a bit of a gentlemen's club feel about it, which is probably the best way to describe the place.

Anyway, I had a great old time at the wedding when I wasn't crying my face off. I suspect pregnancy hormones were behind the excess of tears. I cried when I first spotted Julia walking in after her bridesmaids (she looked the most beautiful I'd ever seen her). I cried when Beau started crying during the service. I cried when Julia's uncle got up to speak on behalf of Julia's deceased father and his brother. I cried during Julia's speech. I cried during Beau's speech. I cried so much at one point that Jon had to escort me outside because it was getting a little embarassing for those seated with me at my table. It was brutal how much I cried. And it was all because I was so darn happy for everybody! Final analysis: the best darn wedding I've ever been to -- except my own of course :)

Here are a few pics of me from a few days before the wedding test-driving the Jill Stuart midnight blue dress I scored off eBay. A little thirties in feel I'd say.

Only Weeks Old

Here is a pic from our trip to Vancouver and Tofino a few weeks ago. As you can see, Jon and I are enjoying ourselves on a misty rugged beach, mostly unaware that there's a little baby planting itself in the old uterus.

Quarter-Pint

In some quarters, I am known as Half-Pint (Jon took it up after I remarked that Laura Ingalls was called Half-Pint by her Pa in the Little House on the Prairie series). Well -- it looks like Half-Pint is expecting a Quarter-Pint! Or in plain language, we're having a baby.

The expected due date is January 8th. So, I'm five weeks along. This does not come as a complete surprise of course. After all, we've been hoping for a baby. And I've had that telltale tenderness of the breasts for a few weeks now. But it's still heady news to have one's suspicions confirmed.

Poor Dr. Dixon -- it was my first ever visit with her today. She probably wasn't expecting me to ask for a pregnancy test. Pleased to meet you. Do you think I'm pregnant? Anyway, she seemed lovely. Young, fresh, super solicitous. Nice to know that I'll be in good hands for this journey I'm undertaking.

Jon is very happy. I can tell because his eyes are lustrous -- the way they get when he's super pleased about something. I guess he's got that pregnancy glow! Harhar :)