Often we hear things on the news or in passing and we shake our heads and mutter to ourselves, “how could they not have known?”
I type here today, dear readers, to say that I am one of those people who crosses the headline of a paper or blog post with an audience questioning my common sense and general intellect.
I don’t wish to overshare or to make this the very point of my existence, but yesterday I found out that I was with child. Today I found out that I have been for 20 – 24 weeks, or 5 to 5.5 months. Almost in the third trimester—who didn’t have a clue? Yours truly.
Reserve judgement for another day—there is a lot I needn’t divulge to the inquiring general public—it isn’t so uncanny to be unaware of these things, especially when my belly remained, probably annoyingly so to pregnant women out there, relatively flat. I thought I was gaining some weight, but attributed it to my love of ice cream and the fact I’m not 20 anymore.
It’s not ideal for my beau and I, we don’t even live in the same city but cities an hour apart from one another, and we aren’t in a traditional matrimonial American dream just yet, but nevertheless, we are 28-years-old and I’m baking a bun and our lives have taken a course in which neither of us knows how to navigate.
So, to the little GingerGuppie swimming around, see you sometime in November! Don’t make it hurt too much because I will hold that against you for the rest of my existence.