telling my students

I wasn't planning to tell them so soon. But my boss slipped at a parent meeting and said that I would not be here next year. I'm certainly not retiring at age 31 and I know these parents are quick enough to put 2 and 2 together. I teach in a small neighborhood school where gossip travels faster than the speed of light. And I knew I did not want to be the subject of such rumors. So I decided to just come clean.

The timing of this is nothing less than ironic, given what's happened this week to my friend, Laurie. I feel funny about celebrating at such a sorrowful time. I feel a heavy burden of guilt and a strange question of betrayal.

On top of that, I feel worry. And I feel a responsibility to keep my students innocent. And now I know -- really know -- that there are no guarantees. This could all be taken away in an instant. I don't expect that to happen but the possibility lingers in the back of my head and in the pit of my stomach. This whole business is risky. And it scares me.

But I can't stay in hiding for 9 months. And I can't deny the joy of this pregnancy. I'm sure Laurie doesn't regret celebrating the 7 months she had with her child. I know I deserve to celebrate this and I know my baby deserves to be celebrated. My students deserve to share this joy as well.

So I tell them. We play "Mystery Message" which is much like Hangman or Wheel of Fortune, and they jump up and down for joy when the message is solved. It is a moment I wish I could box up and save forever. A little boy named Charlie stands up and yells out, "Oh my god! You're going to be a full-grown MOTHER!!!!"

Then come the questions (I wish I had done this on video!):

Will it have a penis?
Are you and your husband going to be the mom and dad?
How big is it?
How did you know it was in there?
When did you find out?
Why didn't you tell us right away?
Is it a boy or a girl?
When is it coming out?
Will we wake it up if we get too loud and wild?
Can you eat junk food? Candy bars?
Can you feel it kicking you?
Will you adopt it or keep it? (she meant put it up for adoption)
If it's waving at you in the picture, how could it see through your belly?

And here are my favorites:

If you eat a shirt, will it go onto the baby?
Will they cut you open or will it come out your butt?

It is a good day and I don't regret telling. I am still heartbroken for Laurie, though. That won't change. But I realize I can feel heartbroken and hopeful all at the same time. I am sad and happy and scared and relieved. All at once. And I know that celebrating my pregnancy (in the privacy of my own life) does not in any way disrespect Laurie's loss or make the hurt I feel for her any less.

I probably won't ever celebrate with Laurie. But in some ways, I think honoring the baby growing inside of me honors the baby she lost even more.