I love this perspective:

I don’t think women have always known the other women in their life who’ve had miscarriages. In fact, when I told a friend at the beginning of the last pregnancy that I was pregnant she replied “Well, I guess I’m old fashioned; I didn’t tell people until week 13.” And I responded “Why? If I had a miscarriage, I’d tell you to!”

So there. I’m not going to shut up. Not that I ever could.

But then one of the commenters below this post makes an equally valid point, and one I can personally very much relate to:

well, after five miscarriages (and no babies) i feel like i have a much different perspective on when to tell. I always told, at least my close family and friends, but with this last pregnancy, i just found i couldn’t anymore. You’re getting a bit high-handed, i think, in dismissing the reasons not to tell. that decision often has nothing to do with any victorian mores, or even shame, often it’s pure terror of even putting voice to something you know is so completely fragile. it’s so very private. plus, after five of them, i just couldn’t handle all the pity. and honestly, i think most people just don’t know what to say anymore. false positivity never did it for me. so, yes, having support is essential, but sometimes you need to come to terms with what’s happening (or might happen) before shouting it to the world.

In researching my own medical condition, I discovered a trend: women with no fertility issues taking unprescribed meds for the sole purpose of trying to have twins, triplets or more.

I remain the eternal optimist.

I’d welcome some interpretation of this study from people who are more familiar with reading medical research than I am…

A new blogging project from Jon & Kate.

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Thank you, friends, and family and blogreaders I’ve never even met in person. Thank you for your sweet e-mails, and messages and phone calls (you know I am very bad about answering the phone).

I am sorry I haven’t yet responded to everyone (or really, anyone). I feel tired and contemplative, and somewhat shut down. I had to go back to work The Day After, and I have other children to look after, so I really haven’t had a chance to even lie down and rest since getting the bad news, much less talk to anyone about it.

In a way, I think it would be easiest to pretend the would-have-been-baby is up on the roof -you know, up there with my father - but at some point you can’t keep sending all the unpleasant realities of your life up to the gables, can you?

But thank you. Your kind words help. They make me feel better. I appreciate them, and you.

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