We’ve shared our journey to motherhood with the Interwebs since — literally — the first day we set foot on this road. So you might be surprised to hear my wife Sara and I haven’t shared the news of her pregnancy (or her miscarriage) to our Facebook friends and followers.
She had wanted to wait until after the 1st trimester to share the news on social media, and naturally, I was totally okay with that and respected her wishes. But then she had a miscarriage at 12 weeks.
We never announced the pregnancy.
How do we now share the news of a miscarriage? Do we even?
So far, we haven’t. At least not on social media.
A few days after the miscarriage, she told me that she almost posted about it on Facebook, but didn’t. Of course, I support whatever she decides to do. If she feels that sharing the news could help her heal, then I’m all for it. If she feels like she wants to keep this to ourselves (and the handful of friends and family who knew of the pregnancy — and, of course, all of you), then that’s fine too.
Is it weird that we’ve shared the miscarriage with total strangers via Babble? Is it strange that some of my family, some of my pretty close friends, some of the people I speak to on a regular basis don’t know that we’re going through this? Again. (We suffered a 2nd-trimester miscarriage two years ago, so this ain’t our first rodeo when it comes to dealing with a loss.)
Sometimes, it feels odd that strangers know and those closer to us don’t. But sometimes it feels really, really good.
Talking about miscarriage is darn tough. And sometimes, when I’m just going about my daily life, I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to get the sympathetic calls/texts/messages. Sometimes, it’s all just too much to bear that I just don’t want to deal.
I don’t have to see all of you fine people. I don’t have to risk getting that “so sorry” look when bumping into one of you at the market. I know it’s always well intended, but it can knock me from a perfectly functioning day (maybe even a day with some sprinkles of happiness) to a sad, sad place. There’s something comforting in knowing that we have the support of strangers. We can access that support and deal with the miscarriage entirely on our own terms. No surprise sympathies.
I can (and do) check the blog when I’m feeling strong enough, and I read your supportive and loving comments. Always, I immediately skip any negative ones, though those usually only come from people who find the post on Babble’s Facebook page. Rarely are they ever directly on the post.
While it might be … unusual that strangers know about our pain when others don’t, it’s helped me. Tremendously. I don’t know how I would function without the support of readers. I don’t know how any woman gets through a miscarriage silently.
I’ve said it all along, and it rings truer than ever: I couldn’t get through any of this without the support of those who have been following along. My wife visits the blog regularly to find strength from the comments you leave, so while it might be strange that you know about our loss and our cousins don’t, this is how we’ve decided to share the new of the miscarriage. At least for now. Maybe for always.
Image courtesy of Aela MassMore On