Monday, December 27, 2010

Expecting?

We were going through security for the umpteenth time at the Rome airport, victims of a delayed plane with a flat tire that resulted in us spending two full days in the very proudly named Leonardo Da Vinci Airport.

Cranky and tired, I moved through the security line with dragging feet, knowing the drill. The coat comes off, the boots could stay on, the liquids came out. As we got to the front of the line, the security woman checked our boarding passes and passports. A family with children moved to the left in a shorter line for people with kids, their baby crying and toddler whining. The woman, a pretty Italian in her 30's, glanced at me and I felt her gaze move downwards to my belly.

"Aspetta?" she asked.

"Sorry?" I said, not sure what this word meant in our current context. When I spent a summer in Italy at a guitar festival, I had an Italian roommate who said this word quite a bit as she fumbled to look stuff up in her Italian-English dictionary. I had gathered it to be a sort of Italian space filler like, "Umm" or "Hold on..." I also knew it to come from the verb aspettar, or to wait.

But here the security woman smiled matter of factly, drawing a gesture of a rounded belly with her hand.

"Aspetta?" she asked again, this time with the tummy gesture.

"Oh," I said. "Oh, um...yes. Er- si."

The secret was out at 12 weeks. She smiled again and pointed for us to go in the shorter family line with screaming babies and whiny toddlers.

So it's true - I'm pregnant, but this had sort of been our secret until now. It was kind of fun having this huge piece of information and keeping it from the world, like we had formed some sort of elitist club with only our closest friends and family. I've reveled at knowing that I have this thing growing inside of me that is going to turn our lives upside down and never leave us the same again. I was a secret agent of sorts with an important mission - to stay healthy, happy, and provide a nice warm place for baby to float around and be comfortable.

But now it appeared that the cat could easily be let out of the bag. My cover was blown, at least by this woman who possessed the Italian panache to say so very directly. I knew this time would come - I was sometimes almost eager for it so that I could be honest and authentic with those around me, sharing the news with excitement. But I suppose all the pasta I had eaten during our 10 day blitz through Rome and Amalfi expedited the formation of the baby bump, and the baggy gray dress I was wearing wasn't so baggy that day. The public had now confirmed to me - it's true! We know you're having a baby! Congratulations and walk through this shorter and supposedly faster moving line with screaming children since you'll soon have one of your own!

I passed through the metal detector blinking back tears (oh, hormones) and realizing all over again the magnitude of this new thing in our lines, flooded with a swirl of emotions - anxiety, joy, fear, peace, excitement, trepidation, anticipation. The responsibility, the miracle, the changes, the exhilaration. It's really happening; the nausea, gas, hunger, and multiple trips to the bathroom are not just in my head. I really am entering the world of motherhood... and never going back.