I've never understood the reactions men have when their girlfriends tell them that they're going to have a baby. I've heard of cases where, if you asked a man one minute if he'd like to be a father, he would say, you mean, of a kid? Now, the very next minute, if his girlfriend came up to him and said, hey, I'm pregnant, he'd say, that's wonderful! It's like the physical presence of an unborn child completely changes the way they think.
When I'm nervous, I stew over things and ramble like this.
No one wants to bring a child into this world during wartime, but I'm hoping that when I tell him, survival instinct will kick in sufficiently that he'll be glad about it, never mind what he would have said had asked him if he wanted a baby, instead of telling him that he was getting one.
"Ron," I say, licking my lips, another nervous habit.
"You can tell me, 'Mione," he says. He can't resist the pet names, even when he knows I'm being serious.
"I'm pregnant," I say. It's not what I planned to say, but it just spills out, anyway. I study his face, hoping.
"You mean, with a baby?" he asks, dumbfounded, and when I laugh, that only confuses him more.