Announcements

My pregnancy was much like the others. For the first trimester, I slept as I made dinner, taught career exploration classes, cleaned the house, talked to my kids, attended a teacher improvement course at BYU-Idaho, and prepared simple dinners. Sometimes, I slept laying down while Ellie napped. Mostly, I slept standing up. When I wasn’t sleeping, I was eating, trying to stay ahead of nausea one cracker or pickle or peanut at a time. They say exercise cures first-trimester exhaustion and nausea. I believe it. But the craving for a cracker and a nap was strong and I preferred that remedy. 

 

It was hard to keep a secret from my older kids, who would quickly question why their mom seemed to be one of the walking dead. On a drive home from the Dollar Store, I was chatting with Sophie and I said, “guess what?” “You’re pregnant!” she teased. I was only going to tell her what we were eating for dinner, so her response caught me off guard. Later that night, I pulled her into my room to tell her the news. She was thrilled, jumping up and down with excitement. Isac and Haddy were told individually few days later. “Cool! I’ve always wanted a big family!” was Isac’s response. Haddy’s response was surprising: “What? We need a bigger house” was her concern. Spencer couldn’t have been happier. “I need a little brother!” he exclaimed.

 

Just when I was ready to announce my pregnancy to the world, the world made its own announcement: Covid 19 had spread across the globe and was now considered a pandemic. Schools and churches and businesses were closing. The slogan, “Save lives. Stay home” started circulating the internet. At first, I didn’t take it very seriously. But on March 12, the church announced that all gatherings were suspended--including college classes--and I realized that this was going to affect my life personally. That night, I gathered with 10 other book club members in Ashley Yost’s living room and the pandemic was the only topic we discussed.  “Did you hear that the Idaho Falls Symphonic Concert is cancelled?” “The BYU-Idaho production of The Cherry Orchard is going to be recorded!” “Classes are going to be held remotely!” “The grocery store has no canned goods.” “I’ve heard that you can’t buy toilet paper at Walmart!” “Kids are going to finish the school year at home.” We parted ways that night, shaking our heads and speculating about when we’d meet again. 

 

Every month, I looked forward to meeting my friend and Eliza’s doctor, Marie Horne, to measure the baby and listen to her racing heartbeat through the monitor. Eliza Jane was growing and developing splendidly. Because they couldn’t attend the ultrasound with me, I facetimed with Trevor and Spencer and we oohed and ahhed at her perfectly shaped head and tiny fingers and toes. The ultrasound tech kept the gender a secret and Trevor and I were able to open an envelope that contained pictures from the ultrasound and the words “It’s a girl!” printed in white letters against the black photos. I quickly bought a pink balloon and stuffed it in a gift bag filled with pink treats to announce the gender to the kids. They opened the bag eagerly, and the helium-filled balloon slowly emerged, dashing Spencer’s hopes for a brother and confirming Sophie’s suspicions. Later that day, I invited Spencer on a drive and we talked about all the reasons why having two little sisters would be exciting. He resolved to make the most of it.