Baby Smiling In Back Seat

Happy April! It’s time to announce the March Intelligentsia (people who have commented on every Thoughtful Thursday post for the month of March).

First, there’s three-peat member Wiseguy from Woman Anyone?

Repeating their Intelligentsia status from a prior month are Cat; Ernessa from Fierce and Nerdy; Leslie Laine from What You’re Not Expecting When You’re Trying to Expect; and Shalini from By the Pricking of My Thumbs.

We also have a couple of first-timers: Kristen from Dragondreamer’s Lair and Kymberli from I’m A Smart One.

Hooray!

Today’s Thoughtful Thursday is pregnancy-related, but those who haven’t been pregnant are also free to chime in. I certainly had opinions about it before I ever became pregnant for the first time — and then those opinions changed drastically when I became un-pregnant. My opinions changed again as infertility wore on for years and years, and when I became pregnant then un-pregnant the second time.

I used to think it was wise to wait a sensible time to tell the world, but that it was fun to tell lots of individual people. Now, I think it’s best to wait a longer-than-sensible time to tell almost everyone, with the caveat that it can’t always be hidden as long as you’d like (growing belly, morning sickness, etc.). Sensible for normal people and sensible for those who’ve dealt with infertility or loss are not even on the same scale — like comparing a stopwatch to geologic time.

With this pregnancy, I’ve been thinking that I’d wait at least until the end of the first trimester to make the general announcement. This includes family — we’ve told them less than anyone else throughout the past 7 years, why should we change things now? It also includes work, non-close friends, and Facebook. Actually, maybe Facebook will have to wait until the birth.

This all seemed very far away, until I realized that the second trimester begins in mid-May. Every day may be crawling by at a snail’s pace for me, but May also feels very soon. May is next month! Ultimately the exact timing will boil down to who we’re seeing when, and how long we can hold out before we can’t hide it any longer. I’d be surprised if I tell anyone who doesn’t already know about our infertility before the end of the first trimester.

The general consensus seems to be that the end of the first trimester is the sensible time for the big announcement. The reduced miscarriage risk coincides with the burgeoning inability to hide the belly. Dooce had a subtle announcement to the world right around the end of the first trimester.

Our close friends The Other Hosts waited until the day of their nuchal scan to announce it — it happened to be New Year’s Eve, so the announcement was made at the party in front of all of their friends. Their families found out around 8 weeks (except for her mom, who knew from the beginning). Mr. Other Host told DH a couple of weeks before the nuchal scan. As I have mentioned already, Mr. Other Host called and told me the morning of the big day, immediately after the nuchal scan: literally as we were backing out of the parking spot post-retrieval, which was not ideal timing for me, but it was still a kind gesture for him to tell me in advance instead of springing it on me.

A few days later, we received their belated Christmas card in the mail — they also waited until the nuchal scan for the mailing. It was a wedding picture, wishing people a happy new year from Mr., Mrs., and Baby Other Host (with due date). Anyone who didn’t hear the announcement on New Year’s Eve definitely got the message soon after.

Mr. Other Host is an “I’m so excited and I just can’t hide it” kind of guy, and they got pregnant the first month they tried, so I’m not surprised about the Christmas card. At the same time, I would never be so presumptuous to send a Christmas card — even if the pregnancy was 8 months along when the cards went out. I have learned the hard way, through my own tears and those of too many friends, that there are no guarantees.

I’m going to see one of my closest friends today, and another one tomorrow. They’ve been with me the whole way on this journey; how could I not tell them? They seem to be an exception to my “wait a very long time to tell” rule. I’m very excited for those announcements, actually. I’m dreading some of the others, though. The worst: I would bet money that DH’s mother will berate us for not telling her about this pregnancy earlier, for telling anyone before her, for not telling her about the previous pregnancies, for not confiding about infertility… Yet another reason to put the announcement off.

Today’s questions (answer based on what you’ve done, if you’ve had the opportunity, or what you’ve imagined, if you haven’t): When does a pregnancy feel real enough (or safe enough) to tell the world (anonymous billions on the internet notwithstanding)? When would/did you tell your inner circle? When does it feel real enough to “announce” it to yourself? How much do you think that your answers to all of the above are influenced by infertility and/or loss?