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Torn Between Keeping It a Secret and Shouting It From the Rooftop

When I got pregnant in December of 2009 I was pretty excited. My husband and I hadn’t been necessarily trying to get pregnant but we hadn’t been trying to prevent it either. We were just letting things sort of happen. When the stick showed a positive result I thought nature’s timing was perfect. Our son would be turning three in a couple of months and that seemed like a great age difference for our kids.

I wanted to share the news as soon as possible so in January 2010—just a few weeks after I found out—I started telling the world. I told my son, our families, friends, colleagues, and shared the news on my blog. The “Hoorays” and “Congratulations” just made me that much more excited.

A week later I started bleeding.

Just a little blood on a Thursday night after my first prenatal visit of that pregnancy. Just a little blood that would be pouring out of my by Friday evening. Calling the doctor—during and after hours—left me feeling helpless and confused.

“Just stay off your feet.”
“Your ultrasound from Friday morning looked fine.”
“Try to relax.”

On Saturday morning I lost the baby.

I was devastated. I was broken. I felt empty.

And now I had to tell all those people I had shared our joyous news with that I was no longer pregnant. Including our almost two year old son. Do you know how awkward and difficult that is to explain to a child?

So one by one we shared the news of our loss. Each time I felt as though I had healed a little the wound was torn back open by someone who had not yet heard. It was awful and I ended up in therapy because I could not crawl out of the funk of depression I had fallen into.

In October I found out I was pregnant again. Like before we weren’t trying to get pregnant—especially after the pain we had suffered just months before. Unlike the pregnancy in January I didn’t tell anyone except my husband. It was my secret to clutch close to me in hopes that everything would be okay.

It wasn’t.

On Halloween I miscarried that baby too. It still painful like the first loss but this time it wasn’t so shocking. I had suffered before, why wouldn’t it happen again? And this time I didn’t have to go through the heart-wrenching process of telling people I had lost the baby because nobody knew I was pregnant.

That made going to work easier. But I needed the support to heal, so I shared our loss on my blog. And the love rolled in. I could shed my tears privately as I read each “I’m sorry”. It was somehow easier to cope that way.

So, when I found out in January of 2011 that I was once again pregnant I was torn.

I wanted to share the news because it was exciting.
I was afraid to tell in case I had another miscarriage.
I wanted to let people know for that very same reason.

When I made it to 10 weeks in my pregnancy I started to share.

Today I hit week 26.

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