This weekend, I was supposed to fly to Michigan for my grandmother’s 90th birthday.  She and my grandfather, who is also pushing 90, are really quite active and well, all things considered.  Then, there was a freak thunderstorm that lasted the exact 30 minute window that my flight was supposed to be taking off.  The flight was cancelled, and I couldn’t get re-booked until the following day, after the 90th birthday party was over.  Needless to say, I declined the opportunity for an 18-hour trip to Michigan, with 6 hours of driving from/to the Detroit airport.

One of the things I was looking forward to this weekend, though, was telling my grandmother I am pregnant.  Partly, I was looking forward to this because it would mean I had actually succeeded in telling my grandma before my mom blurted it out.  But partly because my grandma is fantastic, and I wanted to tell her in person.  Since this was not to be, I called my grandma to personally say I was sorry for missing her birthday party, and to deliver the big news.  It went something like this:

Me: Grandma, I have some news to tell you.  We’re expecting a baby!
Grandma: WHAT? [she doesn’t hear well over the phone, or maybe just could not believe what I had said]
Grandma:  Well well, how’d you two manage THAT?
Me:  We had an anonymous donor, and had a procedure at the doctor’s office.
Grandpa, in the background:  WHAT’S GOING ON? [he doesn’t hear well at all, regardless of whether there is a phone involved]
Grandma:  (to Grandpa, and basically everyone else in a 3-mile radius) SHE’S PREGNANT. (to me) Well, honey, that’s just lovely!  How exciting!

My sister was there later in the day, and apparently my grandmother kept saying how excited she was, and how much she loved babies.  After one of these exclamations, my grandfather said to her, “You know, the only thing that would be more surprising is if you were pregnant.”  Good point, Grandpa.  That would indeed be more surprising.


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