gravidism

I think that most of the people who read this blog probably know (or at least have guessed) that I am pregnant. I actually haven't told too many people that I am expecting, and I've really had a fun time watching the news get publicized for me. Even when you tell someone in confidence that you are pregnant, there is always going to be a leak...somewhere. Tonight one of the grad students said, "So, I heard you're pregnant!" to me after class (he heard from someone at the Springville Museum of Art, where I used to intern before morning sickness took over my life) and basically announced my pregnancy to the whole grad department for me.

I think it's really funny when these announcements get made for me. Afterwards I always get pummeled the same question by everyone who was in earshot of the announcement: "Wait...you're pregnant???" Yep. Yep. Yep. I am. And, it's even funnier because the original person who made the announcement often doesn't realize that he/she has just made an announcement for me. For some reason, the announcer doesn't seem to realize that no one else in the room has been privy to this information. It's very amusing.

A couple of people have also announced my pregnancy for me too. The first time it happened I was a little bit shocked, and I had a hard time dealing with the pummeling of questions which followed. Now, however, I rather enjoy the announcements to be made for me. My cute sister-in-law felt bad when she mentioned my pregnancy in front of previously uninformed family friends, but by the time that happened last week, I didn't mind at all. When other people bring up the pregnancy, then I don't feel like I have to put on a superficial, hyped-up "We're so excited!" face. Don't get me wrong, I am excited for the baby to come, but I don't like putting on an over-excited demeanor and instantly commanding that the next ten minutes of conversation be all about me and my baby.

I'm actually quite interested to see what will happen at church this Sunday. We told Grandma Bowen last week about the news while we were out of town. Grandma Bowen's sister-in-law, Aunt Ellen, lives in the same ward as us, and we're pretty sure that Aunt Ellen sufficiently publicized the news while we were gone last Sunday. Excellent. Now I won't have to announce anything in Relief Society - especially because a pregnancy announcement in our ward immediately calls for the Enrichment leaders to throw you a baby shower. It's inevitable. I'd rather not feel like I'm asking for a baby shower...

P.S. The due date is June 10th.

standing ovation

The other night, J and I had a fairly long debate on what standard/type of cultural performance calls for a "standing ovation." The whole conversation began when I complained about the obligatory standing ovation which occurs at every BYU performance in the HFAC. If every performance gets a standing ovation, then what value and significance is imbued in the idea of standing up while clapping? I suppose in attempts to be "Christian" and "charitable," Mormon audiences always given standing ovations - even at sub-standard performances. I think that this not only desecrates the significance of a standing ovation, but it also is downright silly.

J thinks that standing ovations should not only occur at phenomenal performances, but they are also expected for historical performances by famous performers (e.g. the performer will never again perform a certain monologue, concerto, etc.). I asked him if he would give Led Zeppelin a standing ovation at their upcoming reunion-concert this December, and he said that 1) he'd already be standing for a rock concert (good point!), and 2) yes, he would give a standing ovation - not so much to the performance (we all know that Page and Plant aren't living their glory days anymore), but to the shadows of the great band that once existed. I guess I would agree with him.

However, I also think that standing ovations include something more than just showing respect and honor to a great performer. When I have been truly, deeply moved by a performance, I have physically been moved to stand up. It almost is as if my body is so exhilarated and moved that I have to stand up and clap as hard as I can, as if it is the only way to truly express how I feel. I think that the last time I felt the sensation of being lifted to my feet was when I heard the Queen of the Night aria in London, in the spring of 2003.

Has anyone else ever felt that way as well during a performance? I wonder if there are other motivations for standing ovations, besides my emotional motivation and J's historical motivation. Does a standing ovation mean something else to you?