I’m pregnant. 16 weeks and some change.
And I’m sorry for not telling you…. but not really.
I got tired of the world having a window into my reproductive life. I got tired of everyone knowing my business, my failures. I remember having a conversation with C. after hearing yet another pregnancy announcement and being pissed that they waited so long to share, when they knew what was going on with us as soon as the damn pee dried on the fucking stick. And he said something to the effect of normal people not sharing pregnancy until the safety window*. And it’s true. I’m not entitled to that information, I just feel like I am because everyone and their fucking brother knows about the inner workings of my uterus/vagina/brain! And that’s my doing.
In my attempt to share my experience to try to educate those in my life about what I was going through, I stripped away my privacy and left myself vulnerable to the world. It’s a real double-edge sword. And this time, I needed to keep it a secret. A handful of people knew that we were doing an FET, and a handful more have found out about the pregnancy, but that’s it. We acted like normal people… well, you know, except for the part about how our baby started out as an embie-cicle in a lab freezer.
So, I hope you understand. And if you don’t, oh well.
Over the next few days, I’ll be releasing some pregnancy-related posts that I’ve written and kept “private”.
*I have no illusion that I’ve surpassed some sort of magic doorway where my pregnancy is safe and I’ll bring home a baby. That was taken from me a long time ago.