It's The End Of The World As We Know It.

... well, almost.

This whole blog thing started off when D and I were sort of stuck in Italy (sounds rough, doesn't it?) tending to her mom's ungood health (this is how being stuck in Italy becomes not cool). Then I got really busy assembling an old car for D and though I thought that would make good fodder for the blog, I was too busy working on the thing to blog about the thing. More recent entries include me whining about my lousy back demons, which have now moved on to some other poor sod. My health is good, my life is good. Good.

I'm still working on a book (okay, two books... but only one of them is getting all the focus right now). 49,000 words and counting. Gulp.

D spent most of this past summer traveling for work, and when she swung through Italy, she grabbed her Mom and brought her over here to stay with us for 3 months. Unlike many gents, I'm not concerned about sharing a house and kitchen and bathroom with a Mom In Law. We can barely talk to one another, and each of us thinks the other is beyond great. We talk a little, then she cooks something that only an Italian could manage. And I gain weight, which is the only part that doesn't pretty much rock.

You'll recall from prior entries that D and I had ventured to one of our favorite places on Earth: Mexico. We'd each been there a few times but never together, and when she says "we should go on a vacation" I tend to go with it. For one, there's no arguing with my bride, and for another, disagreeing with the genius notion of taking a trip would to Mexico be foolish. While we were there, we ate terrific food and had lots of fun.

After we returned, and just about the time my back fuss was beginning, D mentioned something about monthly cycles not following the calendar and then said something about going to the drugstore. Just as there's no reason to disagree with a trip to Mexico, there's no reason to disagree with a trip to Rite-Aid. An hour later, she showed me this thing that looks like a toothbrush without the brush part and said "it's positive."

"Positive?!" We got a little teary.
Just to be sure, she went and got the other little toothbrush thing and peed on that one, too, and it gave the same indicator.
Given that we're a cautious lot, we then went to the doctor's office where they did a blood test and confirmed it. D was pregnant. We were terrified and delighted and worried and happy.

Then my back went out and I was a whiny fussy thing and she had to deal with all of that while enduring her "condition."

Then we had some more tests related to this pregnancy thing and all the results were excellent.

After all of this, D went on her international trip, where she avoided alcohol, coffee, cured meats (not easy in Italy), soft cheeses (also not easy in Italy), sushi (this one's pretty easy) and a bunch of other things that she'd have loved to eat and drink.

After she came home, we went in for more tests and those gave us more excellent results. It was time to go public.

We invited my parents - Mom, Dad and Stepmom - to the house on the pretense that we'd be hosting a birthday dinner. D's Mom was already here, and this was our best idea on how to announce the news to all the Nonni [Granparents] at the same time. Can't do anything that could be misconstrued as preferential, you know. It's unusual that we'd invite my parents to the same evening here at the house and we wondered if they'd get suspicious but they didn't. I'm really fortunate in that they all get along just fine and we really don't have any of that drama that plagues other families.

(We do have some family drama but fortunately it's well outside my immediate family. No reason to go into that here, however.)

Everyone showed up and we sat them down in the family room. No one noticed the video camera that would record their reactions to the news even though it was right next to the doorway they all had to walk through to find their places on the couch. We all had snacks and wine (except D) and nobody seemed to notice that, for the first time, our snacks didn't include any cured meats nor soft cheeses.

Finally, an appropriate moment arrived. We gave each guest an envelope and told them some story about how, in other cultures, the birthday party ritual included the hosts giving gifts to the guests. All the Americans asked "is that an Italian tradition?" to which we had to honestly reply "No." Truth is, we don't know whose tradition it might be and we were really making it all up as we went along.

Everyone tore into their envelopes at the same time. My Dad's envelope must not have been closed all that well, because while everyone else was still trying to get theirs open without destroying it, his had already unfolded itself and he found himself looking at an ultrasound picture.

"Oh.     My.   God.   Are we.   Serious?" He kind of froze.
Then Stepmom got hers open and said something like "Oh my God!"
Then Mom in Law got hers open, and her reaction was something in Italian along the lines of "Ah ha! I knew it!" She didn't know it but she acted like she had. For the last several weeks, she'd been telling D to lose some weight, and every time D had something to eat, G (her Mom) would say something about eating and gaining weight and going on a diet.

And there's my Mom. She saw the picture and leaned forward with her head in her hands. And she stayed that way for several moments. Hers was the most emotional reaction of the bunch and it took a minute or so for her to recover enough to stand up and trade hugs with everyone. I was, honestly, a little concerned because she wasn't breathing normally and I didn't want her to pass out.

As soon as we'd all calmed down enough that we weren't clamoring at the same time and we could again engage in a more normal conversation, the question of gender came up. We didn't yet know, but we had one more envelope that contained the answer. D opened this one, and inside was another ultrasound picture, with a post-it note stuck to it. On the note were the words "it's a boy!" with a hand drawn arrow pointing at... irrefutable evidence that it is, in fact, a boy.

We wanted family to learn the news all at the same time, and they did. And we wanted everyone to learn the gender at the same time that we learned it ourselves, and they did.

Then it was time for dinner, but none of us had much appetite. And that's probably a good thing given that the bbq ran out of propane before everything on it was fully cooked. But we made do, we ate well, and we all agreed that this was the best birthday party any of had attended for quite some time.

D can finally wear maternity clothes (and she kind of has to, actually). Yesterday she packed up all the things that are now too small and we stowed them in the shelves above the closet. And shortly after we tucked into bed, for the first time, she felt him move.

Our son. Wiggling around.

March 19 of next year should be quite a day. Of course it might just be another day and there's a good chance some other day shortly before or after will carry greater significance. I guess we'll find out when we find out.

All best,

Cameron