Ten Days

I have just about ten days until my 16 week scan.  It's supposed to be a cervical measurement check, but I'm gonna cross my fingers that we take a peek at anatomy as well.

Ten days of hiding.

Ten days of still not being able to be anywhere near a clove of garlic.

Ten days of emotional outbursts when there are dishes in the sink.

Ten days of trying to stay in my current wardrobe and playing off my thick waist and sweet Baby Jesus, this rack on my chest, I can't even see my feet, like I simply fell off my diet and exercise wagon.

I've been put in an awkward position at work the past few weeks. A few more resignations have been submitted as a result of the toxic atmosphere, and my team is overworked and stressed.  Ordinarily the summer would be slow and easy.  Instead we're swamped. And we are heading into a gubernatorial primary season next year... I'm realizing that I need to start working on next year's work plan in the next few weeks, and maybe put in a bid for some extra help.

So, last week I was having a conversation with my Research Director in New York, and we are talking about the office politics we're both mired in.  And this guy is something of an ally, he's a dad with two kids, funny as hell, and deeply cynical about our organization.  And I realize during the course of the check-in that I have an ally....

So, J, I have something to share that will probably be a lot more awkward for me than for you....

Okaaaay...

Well, you know how we want to be doing x, y, and z in January?  Well, there's a possibility, depending on news I get in the next few weeks that I will be out of the office for a few months...like six months to be precise....

I left out most of the ugly details, but did share my current state of expectancy... and with it, the general reason why it was just too early to offer me congratulations when he tried ("Awkward for you J, I'm sorry, because in all these years we've worked together in this nut house, I've been pregnant for like 53 weeks - eight pregnancies in all not counting this one.")

It actually felt sorta good, like a ripping off a band-aid that's been submerged too long in the pool and is sticking to a bit of hair on your arm and flopping around, and not doing too much about the wound, which is ok, because the bleeding has stopped.

Ten days though.  J is being great and not asking any questions, as I instructed. As I left it, either he will get some cheerful phone call from me in a few weeks, or, he will get a request for medical leave earlier than anticipated.