Ping pong and reactions of people closest to us

In a quiet game of ping pong.   That's where I am.  On one side of the table, daydreaming of all things baby, and on the other, in the blink of an eye, having flashbacks of our first and second pregnancies.  Wanting so badly for the ball to rest on the baby side, and for this to be the beginning of a happier chapter in our lives.

Excitement.  Trepidation.  Repeat.

This time around, there were many more people who knew what we were up to.  I made a conscious effort to tell more people because a) significant travel makes it difficult for us to keep a secret and b) I was scared of what another bad result might do to us.  I resigned that I'd need to give up some privacy to let in some support.

Now that we've been home a couple of weeks, people were asking us how things were going.   In those moments especially, like in many others,  I am reminded that the news we got could have gotten could be so much different.  We could be trying to pick ourselves up off the floor one more time.  Thinking about mustering the energy to answer the text or phone call.   I could be easily writing about our excruciating heartache and anger right now.

I decided that I didn't want to leave people hanging after we received our results.  I didn't want them to wonder and worry more than was necessary.  If they were in it for the bad, I wanted to share with them the good.  So, those who knew what was going on in Colorado, and called in to check in on us, got our honest answer.

I told them a version of, "It worked.  It's very early.  We're happy, anxious and scared.  Please keep this to yourself."

My aunt gave the best reaction, screaming for joy on the phone.   Her reaction was so much better  than even ours, which was just a quiet hug and a kiss, and a look between us knowing we've (kind of) been here before.

My mother,  in stark contrast, didn't say anything.  Zippo.  Just changed the subject to talk about something relatively unimportant.  It reminded of why we aren't close.  Her inability to connect and communicate has been very damaging to our relationship my entire life.

However, I know that if we were announcing a further along pregnancy, there would have been some excitement. Surely, there would have been something, coming to the surface for her when she thought of becoming a Grandmother for only a second time?   I wasn't looking for jump up and down and scream, but surely some expression of emotion would have been nice.  I find myself shaking my head in disappointment and sadness as I write this.

My father (my parents are divorced), also said nothing.  Almost to the point where I didn't know if he even understood what I told him.  He's usually a little bit more emotional than my mother.   But he too, had not much of a reaction.  Towards the end of the call, I asked him to tell only his fiancé.  He told me he'd keep us in his prayers, and that he was rooting for us.  I know his heart was with us.

My sister and two close friends, shared their joy and excitement with us when we told them.  I shared some of our insecurities and anxieties and they listened.   I felt like they understood.

That's what makes your reactions here extra special to me.  You get it.

I hesitated to even write this. I feel like I shouldn't have permission to complain or be scared.  We got what we wanted.  And for that, we are so, tremendously grateful.   For everyone still in the trenches, I know how badly you want the news we just got.

I'm left wondering when there might be a shift in all of this, if and when we might reach "normal" pregnancy territory, whatever that is?  Maybe our first ultrasound will change things?  Hearing a heart beat would be a milestone we've never reached.  Maybe that will be our turning point?