Start Spreading The News...

It was time to face the music. I needed to tell my parents that I was pregnant. Here’s the thing - I am incredibly close with my mom, and have always had a strong relationship with both my parents. It had been so hard to keep this information from her. But this was going to be a total shock to them. My partner and I were not married, and not trying to get pregnant. My parents have also never put the pressure on when it came to starting a family - I have never once been asked by either of them when I would give them a grandchild (pretty impressive considering I just turned 37!). I always appreciated that they never nagged me about it - and I think because of that I never put the pressure on myself to have kids right away either.

However, a pretty big value when it comes to my parents is you get married, then you have kids. As we all (hopefully) know, you do not “have” to be married in order to have a child, biologically speaking that is. But for my parents, this is kind of an important step. So important, that the moment we found out I was pregnant, my partner asked if I wanted to go to City Hall and just get married right away (we were planning on getting married later in the year anyway). While I appreciated his sentiment, I wasn’t ready to run down the aisle just because it might make the news more palatable for members of my family.

Once I had my 11 week ultrasound and learned everything was progressing well with the pregnancy, I knew it was time. I called home, and was chatting with my mom like I usually do. We were probably an hour into the call and about to wrap up when I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I said, “Mom, there’s one more thing I have to tell you.” And I knew she knew before I even said the words, “I’m pregnant.” She said, “I knew you were going to say that!” And then asked me some of the typical mom questions, how are you feeling, how far along, etc. Then she said what I didn’t even realize I needed to hear from her in that moment.

“Honey, this is not a disaster.”

For some reason, those words brought me the biggest sense of relief. I know she could tell I was nervous about sharing the news, and her words just brought me back to a state of calm and comfort that I hadn’t even realized I had been needing. And one of my favorite moments from that call was when the shock started wearing off and she said, “So I’m going to be a grandma?!”

The other half of the parental unit was going to be a completely different experience. Telling my dad was not going to be easy, and I had no idea how to drop this bombshell. I was willing to be the bearer of the big news so it didn’t have to fall entirely on my mom’s shoulders. But after talking it out, we decided that she would be the one to tell him, because we both knew it would take some time for him to process.

I told my mom on a Saturday, and we left it that I would touch base with her Sunday and see how it went. I figured if I saw the news Sunday morning and there had been a massive explosion in Indianapolis, I would know how he handled it. Thankfully, there was nothing that destructive that made it to the news that day, so I thought there was a chance that we would be alright. When I talked to my mom later that morning, she said he was certainly shocked, but that he would be okay.

There’s never really any normal or easy way to share news like this when it comes as a surprise. I know if the circumstances were different, most likely my parent’s reactions would have been different, as would the way I would have chosen to share the news with them. But life doesn’t always work like that. I was shocked when I found out, and I needed time to process the news. I thought it was only fair to give them the same opportunity to recover from it as well.

As I write this in my 28th week of pregnancy, I am happy to say that my dad was able to slowly come around. When my grandmother was sick and before she passed, as he would update members of the family, he let them know she was going to be a great-grandmother too. Now, stories from my mom include the two of them sitting around, laughing about how my dad will sing the Fordham Fight Song to my little one, while my mom will sing the Butler War Song to her…

Perhaps I should start thinking about regulating how many hours she spends with her grandparents when they come to visit?? My family might be slightly crazy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.