Why I don't Tell

The first months of pregnancy

     Many years ago before I was married one of my cousins announced she was pregnant. I don't remember how far along she was but I do remember something that has effected decisions I make to this day. Not a week later while talking with her mother I was told she had experienced a miscarriage. It struck me that moment, as it still does today, how hard it must be to go back and tell people you have had a miscarriage. I could only imagine how she must have relived the pain each time she let someone know she was no longer expecting.  I decided then, that while I may not be able to stop a miscarriage, I could control whether or not I had to let others know about it.

     A few years later I was married to my wonderful husband Jeremy. We waited a little over a year before deciding it was time to start adding members to our little family. Few people outside or our family knew we were expecting until my belly was too large to hide any longer.  I felt it made the whole process speed by as we weren’t constantly facing questions of how the pregnancy was going, or if I was feeling good or not.  When those questions did come I thought about my condition a lot more, which made the whole process slow down a little.  Even still, nothing could get in our way as we felt so happy becoming parents for the first time.

     Five years and three beautiful daughters later we have been blessed with healthy, uneventful pregnancies.   In that time I have seen other dear friends of mine suffer with miscarriage.  It has only reaffirmed my resolve not to announce my pregnancies to early.  I am not saying it is right or wrong for others, when that excitement is overflowing, to tell everyone as soon as they find out they are expecting.  Maybe I am just a chicken but I would rather avoid the small chance they would all, have to share in my sorrow.  I have felt lucky not facing this trial, and at the same time nervous, as I have prepared for what I felt would be my final journey through pregnancy.

     When we first started talking about having kids I told Jeremy I wanted 20. Wanting to compensate for my outlandish number he quickly responded with 0. That wasn't going to work for me so I gave in and said 10. It must have been Jeremy's effective bargaining skills that got us down to 4, because somehow that is way closer to his original number than mine. And yet that is where we have stuck for our seven years of blissful marriage.

     In May we began what would probably be our final journey through pregnancy. We were excited, and hopeful to be adding a little boy into the ranks of feminine emotion. As with the past three pregnancies we didn't tell many people.  My sister found out as she visited with me for several days and became annoyed with my naps every afternoon. Parents were told as the excitement grew. A few friends were included in this party and finally at 14 weeks along, as Jeremy was called to remain in our wards changing bishopric, I decided it would be fun to announce to the rest of my family how I would be spending sacrament meetings and Sunday mornings by myself with soon to be four children. He likewise had told all of his family within the same week.

     In retrospect I suppose we should have been more cautious when my doctor couldn't get a heartbeat at my 13 week appointment. I remember seeing the wheels turning in his head as he contemplated sending me over for an ultra-sound or just waiting to see if the baby was hiding really low in my pelvis. Me, being the optimist, sided with the latter so I scheduled to come back in two and a half weeks to check for the heartbeat again. After three uncomplicated pregnancies I was a pro and had nothing to worry about.

     The week before I was headed back in to hear my baby’s heartbeat, I had experienced light spotting all week. I was concerned but after reading positive posts on the internet about spotting coming out alright I decided to just talk to my doctor at my appointment. Thursday night at the end of my 15th week of pregnancy I started cramping. After two hours of that I called the on-call doctor and was told to wait it out until morning and see what happened. I tried to go to sleep but around midnight began to feel what became clear to me was contractions. A little over an hour later the pain finally went away and I thought I might get to sleep.   I was nervous and worried but thankful I might get a little rest.  Then everything I had ever feared became reality as I faced one of the most gut wrenching experiences of my live.

     Within half an hour we were sitting in the Emergency room waiting.  I don't know how, but I still had an inkling of hope that everything would be alright. For the next three hours until our worst fears were officially confirmed I held onto that shred of hope. I think somehow it helped me get through.  Before our nurse finished her shift, she wished us the best in telling our little girls at home.  They weren’t what worried me.  I didn’t know how to tell my friends and family.      

     We were home by five and had two hours of sleep before getting up with Cora to ship her off to her second day of school. Thanks to a wonderful sister in town and a willing husband, I spent the next two days in bed.  During that time I wondered what I would say to those who knew we were pregnant. I couldn't come up with a solution. It probably wasn't until Sunday that I asked Jeremy if he had told his family. He just sent a text out Friday morning and it was done. Maybe I should have done that, but somehow it just didn't seem to be the way for me. I was afraid of appearing insensitive. I also wasn't looking forward to the inevitable phone calls and responding notes of remorse. Of course when it really comes down to it, when I did receive the calls, they helped more than I imagined they would.

    In the end I am so glad I hadn’t officially announced our pregnancy beyond a small circle of family and friends.  Even amongst those people I was surprised by a few whom I had forgotten I told.  I suppose it was easier than I imagined it would be, but that may be due to the small number of people who knew.  Even now, three weeks later I still haven’t found a good time or way to share this news with one of my dear friends.  The fact that she doesn’t always ask me how the pregnancy is going is probably one of the reasons I like her so much.  So in conversation about happy things do I pop out, “Oh by the way, I had a miscarriage”?  Now she’ll know. 

     I never intended to share this experience with so many people, but in the past weeks I have felt a need to share this small portion of my thoughts on this trial.  I am not asking for condolences, and would probably prefer not to receive many more as the greatest comfort has come through my faith in the Lord and my knowledge of his never failing love for me.