From Fearfully Cynical to Cautiously Optimistic

One of the first things the nurse at Planned Parenthood told me - after "Congratulations" - was that I might not want to tell too many people about my pregnancy this early in the game. The chance of miscarriage at this point is still pretty high; I've read estimates ranging from 10% to as high as 25%. So her advice was to play it safe, and I agreed with her that anything could happen and therefore it would be better to downplay it until the second trimester.

Since then, I've heard the same sentiment from half a dozen people at least, including my mother-in-law. I signed up for a weekly pregnancy calendar update on a maternity website, and yesterday's email consisted of the message "It's exciting, but you should probably keep it between you and your husband." When my husband told his friends, one of them immediately said that we should "protect our hearts" by not getting our hopes up too high.

Well, after seven days of acute paranoia, I have decided to scrap that fucking plan. I am having no fun. This pregnancy, the only thing that I have always wanted from life, has so far brought very little of the joy I had always imagined it would, because I'm spending every single minute being afraid to lose it.

The way I see it, if I have a miscarriage at any point, I will have spent my entire pregnancy miserable before it came to an upsetting end. If I don't have a miscarriage and nothing else tragic happens, then I will have spent a healthy chunk of my pregnancy miserable before it came to a wonderful end. If I miscarry, I will be sad, no matter when (if) it happens or what my state of mind was before it happens.

So, in the interest of actually enjoying my newfound state, I am saying goodbye to all of that shit. I am ready to step into my role as the ecstatic young wife and mother-to-be. I am ready to bond with the little bean in my belly. After all, it's better to have loved and lost...blah blah blah.