The Big Reveal

Whenever you tell friends and loved ones that you are expecting a child, inevitably someone (usually a female) will ask the mother-to-be: “How did you tell him he was going to be a dad?” While this utterly predictable question leads to telling the same story something like 159 times, and increases the pressure on the woman to be “creative” in making the big reveal, it is not altogether a bad question. I’m convinced most men would find out by getting punched in the face by a woman screaming “What did you do to me?!” if not for the fact that they would have to tell that story to their friends over and over again later. Oh, and explain to the ER docs how their husband fell down some stairs. In any event, whether you care or not, here’s how it went down for us:

I came home from work one Wednesday evening in early December to find my wife, already at home, with dinner just about ready to come out of the oven. This was not an unheard of set of circumstances, but a very welcome surprise just the same. Before dinner was done cooking, she took me to our Christmas tree and handed me a wrapped present, explaining that she’d bought it for me that day and thought about putting it in my stocking, but changed her mind and wanted me to open it now. The gift was a book titled “Babies: An Owner’s Manual.”

I got a wry smile on my face, thinking very little of it at first blush. I’ve always been a little slow. We had been talking very seriously about having a baby, and had, I suppose, been actively trying for about two weeks, but I honestly figured this was just some instructive reading for our hypothetical future. I was looking forward to a lot more trying before we saw any results, but as the man says: If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. It wasn’t until I looked at the very meaningful look on my wife’s face - wide eyes that seemed to say “why did I marry the dumbest man on the planet - that I realized this book was more than her usual planning ahead. What can I say - I am not the brightest crayon in the box.

I guess you could say I was a little shocked. Why? I don’t know. This is the natural consequence when you do the stuff they talked about in health class without some form of preventative. But we weren’t really “trying,” you see. We were not-not trying. This is fairly lame distinction, but I didn’t make it up. We have had a number of friends and acquaintances who have found their way down this road before us. For a few of them, we had the stones to outright ask the question: “Were you trying?” [We’re nosy. Sue us.] Occasionally, we get the response: “We were not-not trying.” This apparently means the couple in question stopped using any form of birth control, but it is somehow distinguishable from actually putting forth effort to make a child. I suppose actually trying involves taking uteran temperatures and taking “lunch breaks” at 10:37 in the morning to get the timing right. If that’s the case, I guess “not-not trying” is really closer to forgetting a pill on New Year’s night and waking up with a long blank period in your memory, and several months of nausea in your future. Eh. I digress.

So, my wife told me the big news with a gift. I remember elation, then numbness, and then doubt (it was a very faint blue line). Really, as thrilling as the news was, it didn’t start sinking in for me until I started feeling her (our baby, that is) move around in there in the last couple of months. But the gift giving idea was a hit, and we ultimately ended up using that to tell our parents that they were about to be grands (a first on both sides of the family). For her folks we used a poem in a frame and a baby toy - a stuffed giraffe. For my folks, who were on their way to another disappointing Gamecock post-season bowl game, we used USC Grandparent T-Shirts. For our friends we cheaped out - we gathered them for a group picture at our holiday party, and instead of saying “cheese” we had them say “Ashley’s pregnant.” We still haven’t gotten the pictures developed, but we got some great looks.

My point, if I have one at all, is this: gifts that are given for no obvious occasion often come with strings. Twenty year long, multi-hundred thousand dollar strings. Proceed with caution if one is offered.