The Pregnancy That Didn't MatterJohn Cave Osborne
This past weekend I was out of town for a conference. I didn’t feel great about leaving my wife at home, so I wrote a post about how lame it is when men say “we’re pregnant” to try to make up for it. But she didn’t read it. And I don’t blame her. She doesn’t have any time. In fact, neither one of us has time to do much of anything right now.
From the second I returned on Sunday, it’s been nonstop. (Note to self, no more coming home during the witching hour.) The triplets were so amped to see me that they got too riled up to fall asleep, which meant that the better part of Sunday night was spent dealing with fussy three-year-olds.
Monday came and didn’t care one bit that I was tired from four days on the road. Neither did the triplets. Caroline took Alli to school (which I usually do) while I got our trio dressed and ready for the day. Accordingly, I didn’t get to the office until 9. And suffice it to say that between writing, business responsibilities, two separate meetings with an estate planning attorney (the first of which lasted four hours), two soccer practices, one soccer game and garden-variety carpool obligations, I’m experiencing this week as if I’ve been shot out of a cannon.
And never did that fact dawn on me more than when my wife called on Tuesday morning just after I had dropped the kids off at school and was making my way into work.
“So I’ve got an appointment today,” she said casually with the slightest hint of emotion.
It had totally slipped my mind. She was taking her glucose test and they were going to do a pretty in-depth ultrasound. At least I think, but to be honest I wasn’t sure.
“You sound upset. Are you worried about it?”
“I wouldn’t say worried, but since my thyroid levels have been low, yeah, I’m a little on edge. I just want everything to go well, and I feel so guilty that about the only time I ever think like this is right before I have an appointment. It’s just so different from the last time I was pregnant.”
BOOM. She nailed it. And the fact that I hadn’t even remembered the appointment was evidence that it wasn’t just her who wasn’t treating this pregnancy like the last one. It was me, too. And that’s one of the many reasons why I love Caroline so much.
See, between the two of us, I’m the articulate one, but she’s often the one who initially identifies the stuff which I go on to articulate. And Caroline finally broached the pink elephant that’s been sitting in the room the past 27 weeks: this pregnancy hasn’t gotten the attention that the last one received, and it hasn’t even been close.
I know. Everyone can say that, right? I mean, the second go round of anything isn’t quite like the first. Only for Caroline, her second pregnancy was with triplets, so, in some ways, it got even more attention than her first simply because, medically speaking, it had to. Plus, it was our first pregnancy. We were going to be parents together. And we couldn’t have been more excited, so, naturally, it only made sense that such a pregnancy would get a bunch of fanfare, if you will.
But more than anything else, our quiet little life back then? Though I suppose is seemed full to us at the time, it had plenty of room for our pregnancy. Plenty. These days? You couldn’t cram another single thing into our lives even if you were armed with a shoehorn and a tub of Vaseline.
From time to time, I read the other posts on this blog and I’m envious of the obvious energy my colleagues (I hate that word) here at Babble are able to give to their pregnancies. It’s as it should be. It’s as it was for Caroline and me before. And it’s as it was for Caroline’s first pregnancy.
But it’s not the way it is now.
Caroline’s thyroid turned out to be fine. And our Grand Finale is clocking in at 2-1/2 pounds. He’s in the 50% percentile. Things are proceeding nicely. And the closer we get to July 20th, the better in my book. Because with each passing day, this little fellow gets more and more real. And we are so excited to welcome him into the world, if for no other reason than this one:
Grand Finale deserves a little more attention than he’s getting right now. And I promise he’s gonna get it.