Earlier this week, our families. Today, our friends!

Chip and I wanted to make sure we shared our good news with all our closest friends at once, so last weekend we came up with the strategy of inviting eight couples to our home this afternoon for a cookout. Despite our one-week notice, actually getting them over was like herding cats. I’ve never heard so many excuses.

“Our parents are in town for our son’s birthday, so we can’t make it.”

“We already made plans to go rafting with my extended family.”

“I really need to visit my mom.”

“I don’t know. I’ve got a meeting earlier in the day.”

And so on.

As a matter of fact, the Mortons and Andersens were the only couples who said yes immediately, which left me pretty miffed with our older friends. But, to my relief, couple by couple they called to say they could make it.

All the women flocked around Millie, who is seven-months pregnant with her first child, while the men stood around the grill cooking hot dogs and hamburgers. After dinner Chip set up his marker board in the family room for a game of Pictionary and divided us into two teams, the men against the women.

When my turn came, I drew a stick figure of a woman and added a huge stomach. “Pregnant!” My teammates screamed. I nodded and pointed to the figure again.

“Millie!” cried her husband, Bob, and everyone laughed.

I shook my head and pointed again.

“Ellie!” my husband yelled.

With that single word, our game of Pictionary turned to freeze tag.

“Did he say Ellie?” whispered my best friend, Bonnie.

Chip’s eyes gleamed. “Yep.” He stood, put his arm around me, and turned to look at our friends’ gaping mouths. “We’re pregnant!” he underlined.

The room erupted in a cacophony of screams, well-wishes, hugs, pats on the back, and handshakes.

Everyone wanted to know how far along (ten weeks), if I’d been sick (no), and whether I had any symptoms early on (mind-loss). Chip and I wanted to know if any of them had suspected anything, and they all swore they had no idea. I felt like we pulled off quite a coup, the equivalent of a stealth, secret mission that no one in the public sector knew about until the good guys were on the plane home.

My wedding day notwithstanding, it was the closest thing to celebrity I’ll ever experience.