Where has the pessoptimist been?

Hiding behind private entries, while adjusting to the big news. But since most everyone I know knows, all shall be revealed. There is a bun in the oven. A pig in the poke. I am a jelly donut. The humans have spawned.

To those of you stumbling from the monkey house, heh. There was even a bun when I met you all in New York, and I still convinced you that I was a partyin' fool with my sleight of hand and mad fake-out skilz. Pretty convincing, huh? Boy, did I pay the next day with wretched nausea and a long, long nap. I had really come full blossom into my morning sickness about then, so I saw a great deal of the inside of our hotel room for the next week, but damn, it was fabulous meeting you all anyway, even though I was greatly burdened with one of the biggest secrets I've ever carried. Surprise!

So here it is, a quick guide to the last month of my life.

May 5, 2003: I discover that there is a lodger in my body. Soundtrack by Spinal Tap. May 8, 2003: Four days and four tests later, I am convinced that there really is a bun. May 29, 2003: I make a plea to whoever will listen that the morning sickness has been very nice, but I'm ready for it to be over now. Coincidentally it's my birthday. I want to do nothing but sleep. May 31, 2003: Fudgesicles. June 3, 2003: Readymade fights the leftovers and almost loses. It's a harrowing battle. June 6, 2003: Losing weight? Not by half. June 11, 2003: Though the world remains unconvinced, a photo reveals a baby. Or a heavenly body. We're not sure. June 12, 2003: Readymade produces her first PSA to promote familial reconciliation in the name of easier first trimesters. Later, she mourns the loss of her pregnancy secret, but opens the betting tables.