According to Mary, today is the beginning of week 5 of her pregnancy. It's actually day 22 since conception, and it's been less than a week since she emerged from the bathroom wielding a pee-stick with a positive reading. This will be our first baby.
We've researched prenatal health. We've read all about the likelihood of miscarriage. We've examined diagrams showing what the fetus looks like now, and what it will look like at each phase of the pregnancy.
We should be talking about how to save the money we'll need to raise this child. We should be talking about whether we'll need to move from our Boston apartment. We should be assembling a list of the city's best doctors. Instead we talk more about names, and how we're going to fit a child and all its associated accouterments into our existing place, and how Mary's mom will react, and the merits and demerits of boys vs. girls.
This news has clearly not sunk in yet. We've changed almost nothing in our lives in reaction to this new fact, except there are now a few things Mary doesn't eat/drink, and there's a vitamin she takes every day... and we talk about it. But I haven't actually done anything yet. I haven't started saving for college, or started building baby furniture, or researched the local public and private educational options, or done any of the other things I imagine a new dad-to-be should do.
Maybe it'll seem more real once we're past the danger-phase, and have begun announcing it. But that's still seven weeks from now.
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