There’s this idea that you should wait until after the first trimester to announce to the world that you’re pregnant. I’ve heard it for as long as I can remember. I was told that this way, if you miscarry, you won’t have to go back and tell everyone. With my first pregnancy, I followed the recommendation to wait to tell people I was pregnant. Thankfully, everything was perfect. The next two times however, I quickly learned why I don’t think you should wait to tell people you’re pregnant.
Miscarriage #1
I never thought we’d try for another and then slowly my heart and mind softened to the idea. I started to fall in love with the idea of having another child, a sibling for my son. At this point, I knew nothing about having a miscarriage. I didn’t know how common it was, how it consumes its victims or the physical chaos the body endures. I got pregnant right away, as I did with my son and everything felt just as it did the first time. Then the next day, just because I thought it would be fun, I took another at home test. I had an extra anyway. It was negative. False negatives are a thing right?
I took a third, positive. Then a fourth, negative. At this point, I called my doctor. I had blood work done and after the longest 24 hours of my life, I received the phone call. The nurse was so kind in her attempt to deliver the worst news I could imagine. She kept apologizing but never actually said the word miscarriage. I was so confused. I finally said…”so the bleeding, it’s not just a late period?” “I’m sorry hun, no. You’re having a miscarriage”.
Now What?
I remember pacing back and forth in front of my Christmas tree, trying to figure out where to go from here. I had only found out I was pregnant a few days prior so I hadn’t told anyone but my parents yet, not because I was following the “rule”, just because it had just happened. Even though none of my friends knew I had gotten pregnant, I still felt like I should tell them I miscarried. It was so strange. I instantly became so aware of the pain and loneliness women must feel having to carry this burden alone. This idea that in the event that you miscarry, you won’t want to tell anyone so just keep it all to yourself.
I remember typing out a text and then copying and pasting it to a handful of my closest friends. I told them that I was going through something really hard and that while there wasn’t anything to say or do, I would want to know if this had happened to them. At this point, this was the hardest thing I had ever experienced. The idea that the expectation of women is to keep this pain in and walk this road alone is unbelievable to me.
What else was less than ideal was that the conversation wasn’t just about the fact that I miscarried. It was about how they didn’t know I was pregnant. It went something like this…I had a miscarriage, what? I didn’t know you were pregnant. I was, it was early. Oh, wow, I’m so sorry.
It would have been nice to just skip the middle part of that conversation. It seems small, I know. But it did matter to me.
WHY?
Seriously why? Why do we do that? If someones parent, spouse, grandparent, friend etc passes away, they share that information with all the people in their lives. We were not meant to do life alone. And we shouldn’t be expected to carry the pain of a miscarriage alone. I have a few theories about why we’ve felt the need to keep this to ourselves. They revolve around the shame and guilt that the mother feels and the distrust we have in others to know what to say or do when we share our pain with them. I go into details on that here.
Miscarriage #2
My second miscarriage came at ten weeks. After two positive home tests and a positive eight week test at my doctors office. I went in for my ten week ultra sound only to be told that there wasn’t a heartbeat.
My Village
At this point, far more people knew I was pregnant. And honestly, I’m so glad they did. This miscarriage was physically, mentally and emotionally devastating. I needed help. Badly. Two of the friends I had told I was pregnant had experienced miscarriages before. They both swept in and spoke so much love into my life. They said things that I needed to hear and did things I needed done without me asking. One told me that she imagined her baby welcoming my baby into heaven. The other brought me ready to eat meals and snacks because she knew I’d have a hard time taking care of myself.
My Prayers For You
Pregnancy is deeply personal, and if you choose to keep it close, that is entirely your choice. But, if you do choose to keep you pregnancy to yourself, I pray you do it out of faith, not fear. If you choose to share your news, I pray that you feel safe to let others in to celebrate your miracle and to pray over you and your pregnancy. I’m proud of you.
