Today the kids and I went back to Romp 'N Roll after a six week hiatus. We took December off because it was too busy and hectic to try and squeeze in any romping and I thought that we may better afford the rolling after the first of the year. We also moved up from Babies Gym to Tumble Tunes which is for walkers 10-24 months old. There were twelve children total and 15 parents and grandparents present. I love how many fathers and grandmothers come to Romp 'N Roll. Of the eleven other women there in our class this morning I overheard two of them talking about being pregnant, one "8 1/2" weeks along the other "11 or so" weeks along. They appeared to be telling people they didn't know very well or at all (me) about baby names and morning sickness. They went on happily sharing due dates as I sat there wondering what was wrong with me. Coming out on my blog was a big deal. Really big. And if Ward hadn't come out days before on his own blog you all would still be in the dark, though it's nothing personal. It's just me.
I have slowly told those members of our family close to us and paused for cramps or some other sign of Armageddon. I'm not superstitious, just filled to the brim with fear. I know I've been to the doctor and had good hcg levels and saw a pole and beating heart, I know I've been sick and dragging my feet throughout the day, but it just isn't enough, I want something that I can't have. A guarantee that all will be well.
I am much more relaxed this time around, don't get me wrong. We didn't tell anyone we were pregnant for almost three weeks last time, just kept the secret to ourselves. And then slowly over six weeks confided in those nearest and dearest. But this time, I told myself, I want to revel in the excitement of being pregnant, I want to share the wonderful news. But now, now I'm more fearful than I thought I would be. I haven't told any of my friends here in town. Only you blogging buddies.
When we did the first IVF, we told everyone. We told all of our friend and family. We kept them up to date so that they knew when we were having retrievals and when we were having blood tests. The day that I found out that neither of the eggs took everyone called to find out. Everyone of them hoping for good news. I felt like a failure that I had bad news to deliver. I made Ward answer all of those calls. The sadness in the voices, I knew, would be too much for me. I knew that everyone calling was hoping for me, concerned for me, but their sympathy was just too much to bear. I avoided everyone for days and hoped that we didn't have to talk about it when we met. It was this reason alone that the second two IVFs were a total secret form the world around us, and probably the reason everyone keeps asking if this baby too is a result of top secret science experiments.
My Dad called this morning. I told him (he was in Florida last week and I didn't want to tell him while he was on vacation, though I can't exactly explain why), he seemed excited, a little shocked. He asked what my sister had said and I told him that she said she was more excited this time around than last. He told me that it was just different last time, that they wanted to be excited, but not too excited, that they were 'guarded' in case something happened. This time, he says, will be smooth sailing. Maybe he's right. But I'm stubborn and scared anyways.
I'd love to tell you that after sharing all of this with you that I am going to be less guarded and shout this exciting news from rooftops, but I just don't think it's completely safe, rooftops during pregnancy that is. So those of you who have been pregnant, did you share the news immediately? Did you wait, and if so, how long? Is there some taboo time or am I just a little, you know, crazier than I thought?
4 comments:
June, I told everyone right away - all three times. I didn't know that anything could go wrong. My sister miscarried her first, and then I felt guilty for getting pregnant with my third so soon after she miscarried.
My mom told me that when she was pregnant with her three she didn't tell anyone until she was four months along - because anything could happen, and because in the 40s and 50s, you really weren't even pregnant until you had passed four months.
You are understandably nervous about this pregnancy. Those of us who know you only through your blog are cheering for you, and your family is cheering for you. But you need to do what feels right for YOU - not for us, not for your siblings, or friends, or parents, or anyone else. Just you and Ward.
Try not to be anxious. Try to be thankful for this life, however long or short. And know that a lot of people who will never meet you really care.
God bless you, my blogging friend. And God bless your wee one.
Thanks Cheyle. I did once read that the chances are in your favor once you've seen a heartbeat and there is no reason to not think that in eight or so months you will be holding a new baby. I'm sure I'm not the first or last nervous expectant mother.
I'm just a nervous person, I worried each time I was pregnant that something horrible would happen. I still think the worst if one of our kids is late coming home.
Yesterday, for example, it was time for the older two to be arriving from school, and right about then I heard a siren. I just knew they had been in an accident. Less than a minute later they were home. Unharmed. I'm nuts.
You're not nuts, Wesley's Mom! Or maybe you and are BOTH nuts! My kids are 38, 37, and 28 and I still worry about them! My oldest one loves to call and tell me when he's taking a road trip somewhere, and I always tell him not to call me before he leaves because I'll just worry! But I do want him to call when he's safely home and can tell me about his trip.
My mom used to say that you never stop worrying about your kids - and so far, she's right!
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