Afraid to tell

For all intents and purposes, our NT scan on Thursday was *the* first trimester milestone we were waiting for.  For some people that milestone is seeing the heartbeat, but we learned with our last pregnancy that we needed to wait a lot longer than that before we would be comfortable.

So the NT scan came and went, and I've only told one more person that we are pregnant since Thursday.  A fair number of people already know.  My immediate family, my best friend, my boss, a few people who have shared their own infertility stories with me over the years, close photography friends, and people who know of me from forums (which is one of the reasons I keep this blog anonymous).  But most people still don't know.  Old college roommates, extended family, coworkers, etc.  Let's put it this way, if I give our holiday address list a glance (as those are the people who would most likely also get birth announcements) . . . I'd say fewer than 10% of that list knows I'm pregnant.

And I don't want to tell them.  At least right now.  I don't know what I'm waiting for.  More time, maybe?  I think I'm waiting for this reassurance that everything is going to be okay . . . But will that ever come?  Losses after the first trimester are rare.  I know this.  But statistically speaking, I'm the woman who lost four consecutive pregnancies in a row with no known cause.  I don't get much comfort out of knowing that something is rare.

Four days later, I still cry thinking about our ultrasound Thursday afternoon.  I could not have asked for anything more perfect.  But for now, I'm still not ready to share that with the world.  It's just one more level of vulnerability I need to protect myself from a bit longer.  Maybe I'll be ready at 20 weeks.  Maybe.