I think I may forever associate the first week of July with jewelry and throwing up.
Two years ago, on July 2nd, Rob asked me to marry him. Sadly, he didn't actually ask, "Will you marry me?" the way I had hoped he would. He slid up next to me while I was contemplating falling asleep on his bed, with a freshly popped-open ring box and said, "Say yes." Sometimes when I think about it, I substitute kneeling for his toppling over, and a candlelit restaurant for his cluttered, BachelorDecorTM bedroom. (Just don't tell that to my husband.)
We didn't announce our engagement right away. I was too busy getting sick. About twenty-four hours after putting that ring on my finger, I came down with...It. I don't know exactly what It was, but It had something to do with my stomach. I discovered this during the mortifying experience of throwing up in Rob's would-be Best Man's car. Naturally, I managed to throw up mostly on myself. While Rob and his would-be Best Man stopped at a public restroom for some paper towels, would-be Best Man's wife quizzed me: "Are you [appropriately-named pause] pregnant?"
Her: Are you sure?
Me: Yes, it's not possible.
I flinched a little, waiting for her to ask how I could be so sure. I tried to think up some pointed quip about it not being Nazareth in the year 1 B.C., but there isn't really a way to make one's prudishness sound edgy. Especially while covered in vomit. Fortunately, she didn't ask.
I did eventually get over It, and Rob and I announced our engagement to family and friends gradually. There was lots of, "Things are good at work...I'm reading this great novel...oh, yeah, and by the way we're getting married."
While I didn't enjoy the getting sick part, I did sort of enjoy the being-engaged-but-nobody-knows part. I wonder if I can get away with the same game of I Have A Secret when Rob and I are expecting our first baby. I'll probably be too excited to keep my big mouth shut, but it would definitely be nice to avoid the onslaught of questions, concerns, and suggestions from family, friends, coworkers, neighbors et. al. for as long as possible. Ultimately, I don't know which answer is more appealing: having a big, cool secret to myself, or sharing wonderful news with everyone I know.
Either way, I'll have yet another joyful event in my life linked to nausea. And what girl doesn't want that?