She buys you two adorable onesies & a foot-spa! And keeps pestering the DH to tell my sister (his SIL), even though we'd like to wait just a little longer.
I'm happy she's excited. She's grinning even more than me about it! She was so displeased with the IVF, and after the first failed transfer wanted to know when we'd give it up... it doesn't work like that mum. But she's come to terms with it, and is now over the moon.
My task now is to stop her from telling every one!! We live in very small town & she also works with me - and I don't want work to know for a long time because they will cut me out of promotions & training (yes - illegal, but try to catch them in it is the tricky part).
In the end I found what worked was explaining to her how hard it would be to "un-tell" the news if worst came to worst and I had a miscarriage. I was at pains to say that I wasn't thinking negatively at all, it was just protecting myself.
This actually was brought home to her when a friend of hers announced to all and sundry his daughter was 8 weeks pregnant and then 2 weeks later had to tell everyone she had miscarried - so Mum has been very good about keeping it secret since.
But it is so lovely to have someone so excited for you, isn't it?
When you're terrified of telling your mother because you are 19, have an unstable job and you've only been with your boyfriend a few months and all she does is laugh hysterically down the phone line for five minutes and then start screaming 'i'm gonna be a grandma!!!!!!!!!!!!'
My mum thought she was never going to be a grandma as I am an only child and I was 33 when I told her I was pregnant. She was so excited and cried as she thought kids were never on the agenda for me.
I told her when we were 6 weeks and every time I saw her she was asking "can I tell people yet?". To her credit she didn't say a word until we gave her the go-ahead. Then the whole world knew
My mum is off her head with excitement. When I got pregnant last year she was thrilled. Gave up smoking (after 40 odd years) and addressed some of her longer standing health issues. That one ended in miscarriage, but she never started smoking again. This pregnancy she is trying to lose weight and has set herself a goal of another 5kgs before the baby comes.
Mum has always been in generally good health, but when you are aged 60 +, obese, a smoker and ignoring a few little things the reality of possibly not being around to see your grandchild grow up starts to hit. I couldn't be more proud of her!
We were excited when SIL & DD rang us to make sure we were going to be home as they wanted to see us. We had sort of guessed but didn't say anything as it was up to them to tell us.
When she was expecting GS2 we knew early as she was quite sick but still waited for her to say something.
Being grandparents is a wonderful time in our lives and we really miss our boys now they have moved.
Yep my mum is over the moon!! She also told ppl straight away... haha i can't blame her i wanted to also. but she did only tell close friends so it was ok i didn't mind
When she starts to teach herself to knit (whilst drinking wine)!!!
You should see some of the things my mum has made for DD.
She knows that are 'at home' clothes as some of them have a few dropped stitches. Can tell when mum started to get blotto!
Dad used to say to me on the phone, "Your mother has been knitting for the baby, but she does it while she's having a wine in the evening so not sure what you will think about it"
I was 20 when I found out I was pregnant with jayvan, and CRAPPING myself at telling Mum even though we had been together for 4 years, bought a house together etc...
As soon as we told her she offered... or maybe demanded is a better word? XD... that she'd babysit ><;;
My Mum was very excited - I believe the words "about time" where a part of the first conversation! We waited until about 9 weeks to tell any beyond immediate family and close friends. I've never seen her smile the way she did when she first held her granddaughter.
My MIL was also very excited, but waaaay too excited, in a kind of 'The Hand That Rocks The Cradle' fashion. It's a fine line between enthusiasm and manic obsession.
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