The Cat's Out of the Bag, So to Speak

I'm pregnant. I have known for about 6 weeks. I needed time to adjust to the idea and also a chance to tell hubby. Even with this number of kids, it still isn't the kind of thing you just blurt out over the phone. Needless to say, he is thrilled. Yes, I mean thrilled without any sarcasm. He has always wanted a dozen kids, so to him, eight is a good start. As for me, I was less than thrilled. I really wanted to be done having babies. I have finally started making some positive steps in getting my life more together and now I feel like everything is in limbo again.
I let hubby break the news to the kids. I am just not ready for the world to know. I hate to say it, but I feel like a giant cliche. At our neighborhood Christmas party, someone commented that with my hubby being home for such a long stretch, I was bound to turn up pregnant. (!). I sound like a punchline. I am a baby making freak. I am lucky, yes, bu sometimes I feel guilty that I can get pregnant so freakin' easily, while there are plenty of people way more capable as parents, who can't.
I had my first GYOB appointment last week. It was a surreal experience to say the least. I really thought I wouldn't see the inside of that place again until menopause. On the bright side, since I am now so elderly and decrepit at 42 and three quarters years, the doctor did an ultrasound just to check on things. I was surprised and delighted to see not a tadpole shaped creature, but a squirmy little baby! It's the "gummy bear" stage of development as my OB called it. The baby has arms and legs, and looks great! It was a first in an eighth pregnancy. Hard to do.