Procrastination. It works.
For once in my life, after 32 years of faithful use, procrastination seems to have paid off. I'd been putting off telling my grandparents why I can't be there for our family week in the woods. Because I didn't know what to say, I just kept saying nothing.
Much to my relief, my aunt did my dirty work for me. She called this afternoon and was practically incoherent with remorse — she apologized over and over for telling my grandparents what Paul and I are going through.
"They asked me what your travel plans were, and I was like a deer in the headlights. I just blurted it out."
She was mortified, and I could tell she expected me to be mad. After all, she knew I wasn't planning to tell the extended family about our reproductive plans.
But the funny thing is that I'm actually grateful to her. I find I don't mind my grandparents knowing at all. I know they wish us well and hope we'll be successful. But more significantly, I know they won't ever bring it up in conversation.
That's right. I don't care who knows, as long as I don't have to discuss it with them. It is the thing we must not mention, the love that dare not speak its name. Whatever gets me off the hook.