When I first found out I was pregnant, the last thing on my mind was how to tactfully share the news with my boss. I was more concerned with how I was going to fit a third human being into my tiny house and manage to raise a socially-conscious child with beautiful manners and high self-esteem while America’s Next Top Model and Grand Theft Auto were still out there in the world.
But as my pregnancy progressed, I soon became preoccupied with the inevitable task of sharing the news with my manager. On one hand, telling him would be a relief. I would no longer have to hide the exhaustion that made me want to leave work and climb into bed with a pint of ice cream around 3 PM every day. I could stop whispering “decaf, please!” when we went to get coffee, much to the annoyance of the teenage barista.
Rikki writes. 