The only other woman in my new hire class at work told me today that she's pregnant.
My stomach did not drop to the floor. I did not feel like I was going to start to cry. I was able to say, "Congratulations!" with a somewhat cheerful tone of voice (I think). I was pretty proud of myself.
But then she kept talking about it. Her lunch wasn't agreeing with her. Her husband was cooking more because he didn't want his kid to be fed frozen meals. She has started to have a distaste for certain foods. The thing about pickles is true.
I almost said, "When I was pregnant (the second time), I craved oranges." But I didn't.
This talk made me sad. I was okay with the announcement. I really was. But I just couldn't take the discussion. But we were sitting in a classroom and I couldn't move away.
Then when I came home I saw my neighbor. She's an older Italian woman and asked me when I was going to start having kids. I said I didn't know. She told me not to wait too long because I didn't want to get too old. I told her that sometimes it wasn't so easy. She took that to mean that raising kids isn't easy. She told me it was hard to put so much energy into them when all they want is for you to die and to leave them your house and your money. I didn't have a response to that. She told me that there are things she knows from experience. That made me sad too, though in a completely different way. Not all children feel that way. At least I know my brothers and I don't.
So, it was both a good and bad day. I was pleased with myself that I handled the announcement well, but these other discussions didn't go so well.
At least it's almost Friday. I'm looking forward to the weekend. We are going to look at beds at the furniture store and start filling out the adoption application.