the cosmic joke

And... the Stac(i)e(y)'s have it!  I wasn't going to tell people so soon, but I'm not very good at keeping secrets at the best of times (think of the surprise lady on SNL rocking in the corner, "Oh my!  Oh my!!!)  but then 1. I feel a little bit like the Incredible Hulk with the way I'm already bursting out of my clothes so it was only a matter of time before we'd be getting the awkward glances.  I have tired of trying to find clothes in which I don't look too pregnant -- I was terribly worried about Stacey's party next week, so I would rather just let it hang out.  My body remembers too well how to do all of this, I'm afraid.  2. I'm constantly screaming "I"M PREGNANT" inside my head which makes it difficult to conduct a civil conversation, etc.  I guess the screaming in my head could be because of the pregnancy, being RS pres, my schizophrenia coming on (where does your mind drift when you're not thinking of anything else?  Not algebraic equations, not trying to find the cure for cancer, nor what can I do to help someone else today, just "Aaaaaaaaaaaagh!!!!"), hormones -- it is difficult to decipher.  And 3. I kind of don't feel very well and don't want everyone to think my very sour expression is just a bad attitude.


Yes, a few weeks ago, on the 15 of November, I took a pregnancy test right after Matthew left for his 6:30 a.m. meeting and then went back to lay in bed and mull things over.  We have our usual frenzied Sunday morning in which I try to get as much sleep as I can, let the kids sleep in a little, and still make it to 8:00 choir practice.  It rarely works.  This morning was no different as we rushed into the church, only this time as I careen through the foyer my husband is there and grabs my arm with a strange smirk on his face saying, "The bishop wants to talk to you."  And I just KNOW.  I quickly whisper, "I took a test and it was positive," hoping to give him -- the person who is supposed to be protecting me, the person who has probably known about this for a while -- a painful jab.  I don't look back, just march toward my doom, and soon break into hysterical laughter (I wonder how often the bishop gets that reaction?)  It was just too funny.  And I have since spent the last several weeks shaking my head at the cosmic joke the universe has served up.


I recently met a friend's mother-in-law and told her how many kids I have.  A few minutes later as we were talking more about her she told me that she has two kids and her daughter is pregnant with her fourth child.  After a pause, she added, "By CHOICE."  It seemed rehearsed, like something she feels it important to say to everyone, because surely they must be thinking that her daughter must not know how to prevent pregnancy, because no one in their right mind would have that many children.  Well, I am here to say that this pregnancy, too, is by choice.  Well, more of a mandate from heaven, but not an accident, as it were.  One major reason I was going to go ahead and ignore the very strong prompting was that I do not want one single, solitary person to ask me if I'm planning on having 20 kids, etc.  I just might have to kick them in the face and that my pull my groin or something.  Don't say it!


In looking on the bright side, I have decided that it is better for me to  be pregnant while I have this calling than not pregnant because it will provide just the buffer I need for people to overlook my usual incompetence and shortcomings.  At the best of times I'm not extraordinarily organized, clear headed, or good with time.   And if someone is particularly whiny I can just look them over and say, really?  Really?  This same excuse should last the duration since I will have an infant for a while, too.  Brilliant!