December 21, 2009
The phone rings. I recognize the RE’s number on caller ID. My husband answers, and I can hear him in the other room talking. Now that the due date has passed, they’ve called to ask about our babies.
A bit later, DH comes into the room where I’m sitting, which is within earshot of the room where his dad is feeding Tamale. In his usual boisterous voice he exclaims:
Oh, before I forget, we got a call from the fertility clinic–
I gesture wildly and make urgent facial expressions, but it’s too late.
I guess our secret is out.
I don’t think I really mind.