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I Have a Secret to Share…

**I wrote this blog post on May 31st, hoping that I would eventually feel comfortable sharing my thoughts and publishing here. Today is the day. 😉

“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness”
–Desmond Tutu


I’m pregnant.

I am terrified of saying this phrase aloud or seeing it written in black and white, for fear that doing so would somehow tempt fate.

Meaning, if I wrote this down, the universe could say, ‘Wow, she sure is overconfident. I think we need to remind her that this is entirely out of her control. Let’s show her who is boss.’

And then tomorrow, of no fault of my own, I start bleeding and cramping. Which is then inevitably followed by grieving and shamefully blaming myself for being unable to stay pregnant. The one thing it seems every other female I know does effortlessly.

The truth is, not all women I know stay pregnant effortlessly and without fear or anxiety. I know this intellectually, but when my hormones are high, and life feels so incredibly out of my control, I feel really alone. I also feel incompetent and almost ‘less of a woman’ because of my struggles and failures.

I am pregnant.

If I don’t say it, then maybe I can keep it a secret for a while. I can live in the space between acceptance and disbelief. This is the space where I don’t have to commit to a stance, it’s the grey area, the unknown. In this space it feels that it is possible to suspend time, to breathe, to allow hope and to allow faith to enter. Then I can make room to allow the little embryo to figure it out for themselves. I can press ‘pause’ on my fear of having tragedy strike again, which feels like being the object of life’s cruel joke.

In this space I don’t have to explain to anyone how that little faint line on the pregnancy test means looming disappointment more often than not. If I keep my pregnancy a secret and I miscarry, then I don’t have to apologize for making anyone feel uncomfortable for showing my grief.

Ironically this situation can often feel lose-lose—If I acknowledge it and something bad happens, I have to deal with having to explain grief in a palatable way to the public. On the other hand, not openly showing excitement somehow feels like I am abandoning my own child by withholding love. This dynamic can become an emotional prison.

So I’m just going to wait a little longer. I am going to live here for a bit– spending my evenings silently cheering on the cluster of cells that made it to day 35 and going to bed early so my body can rest. I will be sneaking moments of quiet to myself so I can feel the love for this little person rather than sitting in fear of the worst case (and unfortunately common) scenario. I will allow myself to move through my fear rather than allowing it to encompass me and know that it is ok to shed a few tears for this little embryo, fighting in its own way for survival.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

For the record, I choose love.


UPDATE—We are at almost 16 weeks. Woohoo! Things are going well and hope and faith are high..:)