The perils of secrecy

We had to tell our families about Baby #2 between weeks 7 and 8 because they came out to the mountains for the holidays and it would have been SO obvious. Have you read my ode to wine? Yeah, that’s why. But I would have preferred to wait a few more weeks, maybe until 10 and 11for them and another few weeks for everyone else? I don’t know why. Maybe because that’s when we shared last time? After the first ultrasound it was too damn exciting to keep just between Hubby and me; this time I need the support anyway. Squealing to our parents was majorly emotional—for me as much as them—and every time I think of people being excited for us, I get anxious. I’m not a big center-of-attention person (duh) and all those people being happy just freaks me out. Having to share the news about Baby Wyatt’s death was like rubbing stagnant, dirty ocean salt in a ridiculously gross, old, National Geographic science/medicine article (with pictures) wound. I know I should believe I won’t have to do that again…but it’s damn hard.

That’s not the point though. The point is that we are waiting to tell people but finding many perils to said secrecy. I had to tell one of my besties a really long time ago because we share some tough, real things and this should be one of them. Then I had to tell another good friend because she was sooo great to me after Wyatt died; she sent me literally 100 funny emails on October 14^th, his due date, when I feared the worst for myself. Also, she’s pregnant—about five weeks ahead of me—and told me right away so I wanted to return the favor and have someone to freak out with. Then, Hubby told someone over email by accident when he thought he emailed the ultrasound photo to his mum and dad, but really it was to his mum and a friend. Oops! Then I told two of my other buddies because I had this urge to do so; I thought maybe staggering the announcements would help, and they’re so far away and I miss them and want them to be there through it. Then my cousin moved to Guatemala and started a travel blog, and I became one of her “followers,” so I’m pretty sure she’s gonna find out the next time she logs on and researches who the hell Average Josephine is…the list goes on. Add to it the fact that I completely do not trust Hubby’s mother, no father, to keep a secret and we’ll have absolutely three people left to tell when we finally make “the announcement.” Maybe if these accidents keep happening it will be easier to do? Oy it’s stressful. Three weeks until the next doctor’s appointment and said “announcement.” You can do this Average Joey, you can do this.

ps. here is a sweet, accurate drawing of a week 10 fetus.
I think it looks just like me.