SandiSplash

We found out we were pregnant very early into the pregnancy. I was about 3 weeks pregnant and all you could see was a yolk sac in an ultrasound.

I am an open book. I tweet about what is happening in my life. I write blog posts about how I wasn’t entirely happy in a phase of life when everyone is supposed to be. And I tell strangers whatever pops into my head. I don’t think I have any secrets.

And then I’m thrown into the first trimester, the hush-hush trimester, where you’re allowed to tell everyone that you’re trying to have a baby but can’t tell them you’re pregnant for fear of a miscarriage announcement ruining the whole experience.

I didn’t know what to do. Firstly, I didn’t want to tell anyone because I hadn’t even come to terms with my feelings. Secondly, society dictates that I’m not supposed to tell anyone. Thirdly, all I wanted to do was tweet about the fugitive I was harbouring that was trying to kill me!

Early pregnancy support

The husband had a lot more support than me. Everyone at his workplace knew immediately with all the hospital visits and running home to a sick wife during the work day. It was pretty awesome that they all knew. He had support when he needed to take time off or needed to vent about my moods. Everyone had some piece of advice to help him survive the first trimester.

I told the immediate family at about 6 weeks in, after our first gynae appointment when we heard a heartbeat. The husband didn’t want to say anything to them because he wanted to save them the heartache in case the worst happens. That was around the time my morning sickness from hell started but it helped having their support when I was hooked up to a drip in hospital from severe dehydration.

But all I wanted to do was tell everyone, in the moment, that I’m dying. It’s what I do. When someone asks me, what’s new – that’s what’s new. If I could do it all again, I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut. It’s not a big pregnancy announcement – it’s what’s going on in my life.

But what about the risk of miscarriage

What about it? Surely, if the worst happens, I’d want support. Imagine grieving all alone and not having the people I see every day not knowing what I’m going through. And not telling people is precisely why women take it so badly when they miscarry – wrongly believing it’s a fault of theirs. Because no one talks about it so we don’t know just how common this is.

Or maybe you want to keep things quiet because you’re a private person. It’s ok. Do whatever feels right for you. I cannot possibly imagine the pain of previous miscarriages and maybe if I went through something like that, I wouldn’t want to talk about it until I’m in the clear.

It’s ok to not tell everyone you know

The people who knew I was pregnant were excited when I started my second trimester. It was now time to make the big announcement. The only problem was that I no longer wanted to announce anything. Not only did I feel like one big liar for 3 months but I am not the flashy person that wants to show off my latest thing that I kept hidden for some time now. Really, I don’t know how those people with the big announcements do it – everyone must know. I suppose they had the excitement factor that I was also missing.

I wasn’t that excited. My life was coming to an end. And it just didn’t feel right to announce it to people. If it came up in casual conversation, I wouldn’t hide it from anyone. I’m sure there are tons of people who still don’t know I’m pregnant and you know what, I’m fine with that.

Ultimately, it’s your pregnancy. Do whatever you want. Shout it from the rooftops at 13 weeks if you want to. Playfully tell people when it feels right. Hand out prizes to people who spot the bump and come to the conclusion themselves. Who cares about everyone else – do what you feel is best for you.