Maybe the rhyme heading up this post should be reversed. Because the guessing never ends either.
From the moment, I sheepishly walked down the stairs and nervously presented an unsuspecting papa to be with a pregnancy stick, things haven’t been the same.
I muttered a vague explanation regarding my befuddlement about what one or two lines may or may not mean, and asked him to decipher it.
Oh, thank God for the internet. It felt like an age as I stood fidgeting, ringing my hands in trepidation, as I waited for the verdict.
I will never forget the instant Michael got up from his desk, walked across the lounge room, and triumphantly announced we were indeed expecting a baby. Or at least that is what he thought, but he too was confused, and perhaps we ought to go to the doctor.
He wrapped his loving arms around me, and laughed with delight at the turn of events, while assuring me everything was ok.
I had secretly been preparing myself for the worst. But this… This was amazing. I melted into the moment, and allowed the anguish I had been experiencing to dissolve into dust beneath our feet.
Ever since that fateful morning, we have been counting our blessings with more fervour than ever.
I literally squealed with happiness when I found out three months later we were having a little girl.
Then I cried with joy as I rang my husband to share the news.
Not only was everything good with the extensive genetic screening, as we had hit a potential hiccup a fortnight earlier, but we were having a pink Little. A beautiful healthy pink bundle of joy.
Now all i had to do was carry her safely to term.
We had been playing a guessing game about the gender of our baby for months.
Up until falling pregnant, I had been adamant I didn’t want to find out. But Michael had other ideas. And as usual, his foresight was clearer than mine.
It was as he said, knowing what we were having made it easier for us to wrap our heads around, while our hearts skipped happily ahead, and include her in our family psyche.
It wouldn’t be a new week, without new experiences.
This week Emily and Michael got their Greek on for the first time, as we met Father and Presvetera for coffee, and Emily’s Fourty Day Blessing.
Which I might add, we were only fifty-eight days late for. But those first weeks were hard, and we, we being me, were in two minds about what to do on the subject of religion.
Honestly, I am still in two minds, so we will wait and see.
While Emily also further cultivated her love of café culture, as we rather daringly indulged in not one, but two long lunches – acting as book ends for the last seven days.
Mummy hit the wall on Thursday afternoon, so daddy and Miss Emily Kate snuck out of the house for a walk so I could sleep.
In the interest of transparency, I should probably mention the reason I hit the wall was, I went a little nutty, and bought a parenting book earlier in the week.
But it is best we gloss over that small insignificant indiscretion as quickly as possible.
I am feeling much more myself now.
Thank you for asking.
In other news, Emily is experimenting with new cries, sounds, and movement. Her right hand is the most fascinating thing ever, while she hasn’t yet noticed the left at all.
As always, we are having the best time as a family. Little likes to sleep through most of our driving adventures, which suits us perfectly.
Admittedly she is getting better at sitting in her pram while it is stationary, although still prefers it moving. While the bouncer remains her cross to bear.
Her and daddy have lots of fun going to the park of an afternoon, while mummy and Emily have long conversations as we break down the phonics of language.
Finally, we stepped into the community, and braved story time at the library.
I think it is going to take us a little time to get used to the format, but definitely worth persevering.
Hands up who doesn’t know the nursery rhymes?