This year, of course, we brought with us a secret so closely guarded, it's known only to my mother, her sister, about a dozen friends in L.A. and the throngs that flock to this blog. We were a little worried at what the reaction would be to the big 12th Week reveal -- one of our friends is notorious for loving dogs but finding children about as pleasant as listening to Mariah Carey and Celine Dion sing a duet of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer."
We spent most of Saturday helping one of our friends get his beautiful house atop Potrero Hill ready for his big holiday bash on Sunday. That evening, fortified on the evening's first glass of wine, we took a big breath and broke the news to three of our best friends.
"I KNEW it!" our host shouted. "Didn't I tell you guys that's why they went to India?" Turns out he has another set of friends in San Francisco who are also doing surrogacy in India. He demanded we move back to San Francisco so he can be a proper uncle.
|Mmm... tastes like jamón serrano|
"Wha... no, really?" said she of the child aversion. "Um... WHY?" But her husband was delighted at our news and promised to make up for any her slack in the auntie-uncle relationship.
And a funny thing happened at the party the next day -- right when I was getting a little sad thinking that this was the last year we'd be able to all be together pre-holidays, for the first time, the party was filled with children: toddlers, first-graders, a lesbian couple nursing their two-month-old in the bedroom. A new chapter begins.
While we were still in SF, our latest ultrasound arrived -- everything looking good and the babies looking more like babies, though Adrián thinks one of them looks a bit evil, as if rubbing palms together planning world domination. At least the clown nose has disappeared...