The Birds and the Bees, Part Two

I’m pregnant.

Oh boy, this is a little cosmic joke if ever there was one. You see, Craig and I are planners. We are level-headed, generally calm, and we plan our major life decisions.

In fact, just a few weeks ago I was telling my mom, among others, that while I was still slightly ambivalent about having another child, we were done. Really, I like having two boys. It is so tidy and convenient. One for each hand. Room in our car. I have been planning to get a job in a year and a half, when Henry goes off to Kindergarten, and I’ve been starting preliminary planning on that front.

About three weeks ago, I had a dream that I was pregnant. I told Craig and we laughed.

Two weeks ago, when I borrowed the sex/baby book from my friend, her daughter asked, “Do you have a baby growing in you?” I answered in the negative, and I laughed.

A week ago, at school pickup, one of the moms was talking about her third, surprise pregnancy, a girl after two boys. I told her that I had experienced so much morning sickness with my boys, it was good that I hadn’t ever been pregnant with a girl, since the old wives’ tale says that morning sickness is worse with girls. “Who knows?” she said. “We thought we were done after our two boys.” I laughed.

Now I imagine God laughing. Not in a mean way, but laughing nonetheless.

I’m thrilled with this turn of events, when I’m not vomiting. And Craig is warming to the idea. We are both a little stunned.

And yes, I know how these things work. I read the book with the boys two weeks ago, remember?

We thought we might try to keep it quiet for a while. At first, I only told a few friends, ones that I would tell if anything were to go wrong. Then I told my mom. Craig told his parents. And then, this morning, I found a Facebook message from one of my mom’s friends congratulating me on my little surprise.

After I threw up and Luke was looking very worried—have I mentioned that he is a hypochondriac and thinks he is catching anything that anyone else has?—I decided to forget the whole keeping it quiet thing and tell the kids. They are mostly excited. Luke has a few reservations.

“You will be the extra big brother, Luke!” I said, trying to get him a little more excited. “And you can help us name the baby!”

Without any hesitation, as if he had been planning it his whole life, Luke said, “If it is a girl, Rosie, and if it is a boy, Scratch.”

Rosie or Scratch, I couldn’t be happier with this unexpected miracle.