Email announcement /My lucky friend PL / Pillow and sick day

Email announcement

WOW that was thrilling: I just sent an email to 72 family and friends, announcing our pregnancy! It took me a long time to decide how I wanted to do this…

Facebook just kept seeming not-right to me. I appreciate FB for keeping me in touch with a slew of people I would have surely lost touch with by now, but I the newsfeed for me has a flattening effect on all experience, pregnancy announcements and newspaper articles and memes all part of the same reel that we all rather mindlessly scroll through, clicking “like” sometimes without fully reading whatever the post is. Family and friends would have stopped and zeroed in on our announcement, but they would know that they were one of 500 other people, and may not understand how much we wanted to share this moment with him or her especially. And so: 1) FB didn’t feel special or intimate enough for our initial pregnancy announcement, and 2) I’m just not comfortable with Joey Shumoley from 3rd grade, and the like, knowing about our pregnancy yet. I’ll surely post photos from the gender-reveal party, and that’s when we can become, as they say, Facebook official.

Instead, I sent a simple email, using a special-looking blue font, to people who really matter to us. I attached 3 photos: One of the last ultrasound, one of me with a bump, and one of DH and me, grinning.

The announcement read (sans “TUT” of course—that stands for The Unexpected Trip):

Dear family & friends, near and far, old and new…

 
We are thrilled to announce that we are having a baby! 
 
We are so deeply happy and grateful. Little Baby TUT is due December 4th! 
 
I am now snug inside the second trimester, and the little one is thriving. 
 
We’ve attached some photos. The first is an ultrasound photo of the baby, taken at my last appointment. The second is of the bump. And the last one is of DH & me, being happy. 
 
Thank you for sharing this moment with us. 
 
With love and warm hugs,

And that’s it! What’s nice about this method is that I am getting a ton of email responses back, replies that only I see, and so the sender feels comfortable saying anything he or she wants. I am going to print out all of them and paste them into my sketchbook.

My lucky friend PL

In other news, I got an email from another dear old friend out west, someone I talked with on the phone during our last pregnancy loss. I’ll call her PL. She is my age and the last we spoke, she was having trouble conceiving. She went to get tested and found out her AMH was very low—she texted me the number. I have to admit that I kind of lost hope for her, then, although I didn’t express that.

The email was in response to my casual check-in, making sure I had the right email address for her. I didn’t say anything of the sort, but I had planned on also carefully checking in with her before sending the pregnancy announcement, in case she was grieving over infertility-related issues—in which case, I’d figure out some gentler way to tell her the news. But she wrote back right away with: “I have some news for you: We’re preparing to be parents!” I have to admit that at first it rubbed me the wrong way—she knew how many miscarriages I’d had, and she did not know yet that I am pregnant now. What if had been in a grieving phase instead of the phase I am in?

I let it go, of course. Not everyone has been through as much I have been through, as much as many of you have been through, and they just don’t understand how an uncushioned pregnancy announcement from a dear friend can strike you down and ruin you for days.

I also have to admit something I’m not too proud of: I felt a tinge of jealousy. Through our correspondence I learned that although she had that rock-bottom AMH and was having trouble conceiving, she eventually conceived within the year of trying, without having had any miscarriages. She is in her third trimester, forty years old. I wouldn’t wish my worst nightmare on anyone, but there was this weird thought: oh, I thought she was going to become one of my comrades in the war zone. I thought she’d have miscarriage stories to share.

I’m glad she passed by all of that. But it makes me realize (again) just how much it seems like my super-fertility has to do with our journey—if I had simply not conceived, if my uterus hadn’t been so friendly, nurturing anything and everything that came down the pipes, the moment I had sex, then perhaps that lucky egg would have had the chance to come along during our first year of trying and I would have just had a pregnancy like PL’s.

Having a bunch of miscarriages does a number on your chances of catching a lucky egg. You are either pregnant, miscarrying, or recovering from a miscarriage—physically, reproductively, emotionally—all the time. 

But you know what? It just doesn’t matter. My journey is my journey, and I know it sounds insane, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything. How could I want to trade it? If traded it, I wouldn’t be the me that I am right now, and I like it here a lot.

After I got over my unsavory feelings, I realized how completely awesome it is that PL and I are going to be pregnant at the same time—she’s only a few months ahead of me. Our kids will be nearly the same age. One of the things I’ve mourned is the fact that so many of my peers got pregnant long before I did, and even though I am joining parenthood, the stages are out-of-synch (not that that really matters so much). It will be great to have a close friend I confide in and ask questions of as our children grow up, right alongside each other.

Pillow and sick day

Not yesterday but the day before, I was walking through the living room, coughing, when my crazy cough turned into my projectile vomit all over the floor! Very dramatic, little baby! I tried to get on with my day, but it was impossible. I just put on a bathrobe, crawled into bed, and stayed there for several million hours, nauseous as hell. Now I am all better! For 2 days straight, I’m golden. Maybe it was that hormonal uptick I’ve heard happens as you transition into the 2nd trimester, nausea’s last hurrah before it releases you back to the land of normal-ish eating.

sick day 2I could eat only white rice and GF pretzels, drink only ginger ale and water. Here are my supplies on my TV tray. And also, a photo of the scene of my bed, where the only thing that could distract me from my discomfort was the unrated version of Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which I highly, highly recommend. I spent that night in utter discomfort and woke up feeling as though I’d been a car wreck. Luckily, my beloved pillow arrived that very day! This pillow is my new lover. It is a gorgeous invention, already very close to my heart, a swollen-worm boa I snuggle up to instead of to my husband. I hug one side, and it hugs me back, back and front. Such a generous creature!

sick daypillow

 

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5 Comments

  1. i bet that makes it seem even more real! congrats. i’m so glad you’re feeling better, i hope that lasts!

    Reply
  2. I love your attention to cultivating intimacy as a means of really honoring the ‘specialness’ (Is that a word?) of this moment and the people you’re choosing to share it with!

    Reply
  3. Glad you’re feeling better. And that pillow looks amazing! I kinda want one!

    Reply
  4. I have similar feelings about people with low AMH and DOR who have spontaneous pregnancies. I’m happy for them, but I find myself also more jealous than I think I get for just about any other pregnancy. Because why them and not me? They’re supposed to be in the trenches with me. It’s a terribly guilty thought to have, but there it is.

    Reply
  5. I love what you had to say about your email announcement. That’s such a wonderful way to do it! I’m glad you’re getting such wonderful responses and think keeping the scrapbook for those sounds amazing!

    Glad you are feeling better.

    Reply

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