What Not To Say

During our pregnancy loss last summer, I wrote out a lament by hand. It was cathartic, but when I finished, I didn't know what to do with it. It felt too personal to publish on the blog that I know friends and family read. It felt to real to discard. I have saved the scraps of paper on which I wrote it all this time, and hope to eventually transcribe it here, for my own sake. That is for a later post.

More recently, the words that need writing have to do with how loved ones can react well, or not well, to news of a pregnancy or news of a pregnancy loss. I recognize that no one can navigate this well - what I want from others is not even always the same, and certainly other women represent another completely different set of needs. Even so, there have been some reactions that I believe are probably never helpful.

Conversation 1, at 7 weeks pregnant, about 8 months after our last miscarriage:

Our parents: "So, we didn't mean to eavesdrop, but did we understand correctly that you two are pregnant?"

Us: "Well, yes, actually we are. We aren't really telling anyone yet, until we know better how things are going."

Our parents: "Oh."

Really, that was it. They never mentioned it to me again, ever.  My husband updated them when we confirmed a miscarriage, and they still never acknowledged anything to me again.

"We aren't really telling anyone yet means we aren't making announcements because it was too hard last time to "untell" everyone, especially our other children. But now that you know, a simple, "Congratulations. We are happy for you and are praying for you and the baby," would be so much appreciated. "We are not telling anyone" doesn't mean please pretend it doesn't exist. That hurts.

Converstaion 2, at 9 weeks pregnant, about 1 year after the last miscarriage he knew about:

Me: "Well, did the kids tell you yet? We are expecting again."

My father: "Really? Wow. Um, congratulations. That is great. How far...when?"

Me: "I am almost 10 weeks now."

My father: " That is just great....Um, didn't you want to wait, until you were sure, to tell...um..."

I think he meant, to tell our kids. Maybe he meant, to tell him. It doesn't matter. We are never sure. We are more sure this time...there are indications that things are going better than before, but pregnancy is always fragile. Life is fragile. Yes, we waited a while to tell our kids (more than a month), because it was so hard to tell them about the miscarriage last summer. We never did tell them about the next pregnancy, or miscarriage. It turns out that that was hard, too, to mourn in front of them without them knowing what we were going through, physically or emotionally.

So, if I am telling you, then I have obviously decided that I don't want to wait any longer to tell you. If that means you end up having to share our future grief, I am sorry for that, but please don't question me about it. Love me by being willing to share my burdens as well as my joys.