At first, I delayed this announcement because I didn't want to jinx the pregnancy, or to get a lot of questions about how it was going if it didn't stick. (There's nothing like hearing people wish you well with your baby when you've just had a miscarriage--once was enough for that experience.)
I kept postponing the announcement because the Big Book was (and still is) in a slush pile where I'd very much like to see it picked up, and I didn't want to give the editors any extra reasons to reject it. If I were in the editors' position, I might hesitate to sign with a writer who still had most of a pregnancy ahead of her, to be followed, if all went well, by four months of epic sleep deprivation while caring for a newborn. It might--as, I confess, it has--put a serious crimp in the writer's productivity. As a mentor of mine from academia used to say, universities don't hate mothers or families, but they do hate problems, so never let them see your family as a problem. That advice seems to apply about organizations of all kinds, and I don't see any reason to think publishing houses are different.
Now my pregnancy is so far along, it would be kind of weird if I just announced a birth out of the blue in September and only the people who knew me in real life had any inkling it was coming. In real life, I am gravid, bulbous, and occasionally beset by vigorous bouts of fetal kicking.
I am also blessed with the help of my 17-year-old cousin Ian, who has just come to live with us for the summer and lend a hand while I get my house in order, my toddler prepared, and my contracted manuscripts polished and sent. I may even be able to post on this blog at my accustomed twice-weekly pace again. We'll see.