By: Lex Jacobson
This first trimester is an interesting one. We haven’t told any of our close friends yet, just my mum and dad, so I feel like I’m hiding the most important thing in my life from my best friends. At the same time, it’s an awesome place to be where only my wife and I have a secret and can spend the time to share with each other.
It’s been tough not to want to climb on the rooftop and shout out the news so that I can rejoice with everyone. I know that time will come soon, but I feel as though I’m avoiding important situations just to keep this secret (I missed my best friend’s stagette last weekend). To us, it is important to keep to ourselves for a while; neither of us want to go through the process if we miscarried of having to figure out who we told, so that we didn’t miss following up with anyone with the bad news.
This week, our baby has officially graduated from an embryo to a fetus. We’re at eight weeks, and all I can think about is that we have only four more weeks to go before we’re at that elusive “safe place”. Every day, I celebrate a little more that the baby is still inside me. We got to see and hear the heartbeat last week, and the reality of potentially having a baby in seven months is setting in. It’s awesome.
We are in the middle of house hunting, as we are moving into a more diverse community from a smaller town with our current 3-hour daily commute. We’ve sold our condo and are going to become renters again. Our house is no longer ours and though we haven’t officially moved out, I feel slightly homeless. This limbo land of not having a home and carrying a secret that nobody knows is slightly overwhelming. Things all seem to be changing at once (including my body), but I’m so excited for this next stage.
We’ve been marking down “single couple, no kids” on all of our apartment/house rental applications, and today we saw a place which is the bottom floor of a house of a childless couple, and I felt awful having them consider us as their renters when we’re going to bring a screaming baby into their/our home. But I don’t want to tell them I’m pregnant and not get the apartment as a result. I don’t know, I just want to shed this secret and be myself: a soon-to-be-mom. That feels so awesome, and weird, to write.
All of this is weird and awesome.
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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