People keep gossiping busily about how I managed to time my pregnancy to coincide with my sabbatical. I’m kind of flattered by the unceasing gossiping because it’s great that people suspect me of such fantastic health and booming fertility at the age of 39. Of course, as long as I fulfilled my sabbatical obligations (and I fulfilled enough to cover four sabbaticals), it’s none of anybody’s business how I time my pregnancies.
It’s funny, though, that people find it easier to believe that I knew a year in advance (when sabbaticals are officially requested) when I would get pregnant with great precision than to accept that this was a coincidence. It got to the point where a colleague repeated wistfully, “I wish I knew how to time my pregnancy so well. Oh, I wish I did!” in an insistent way that made me think she wanted a step-by-step instruction manual on the process.

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