I Lied To My Mom About Trying To Conceive

My mother doesn't know about this blog, and she doesn't know that Marcus and I are trying to conceive again. It kills me because I very badly want to tell her. For the past couple of months it's merely been something that I neglected to mention to her, but while we were vacationing at the beach in early August, she asked me point-blank, "Are you trying to have a baby?"

And I looked at her and told her no. She looked disappointed and said only, "Oh."

My mother and I have a terrific relationship. I cannot even begin to express how much I look up to her and how intensely I love her. I also see a lot of myself in her; she's given me so much of her personality, which I appreciate because I really do love myself and the kind of person I've grown to be. I hate to lie to her. I hate to keep this secret.

But the alternative is simply too risky. When I lost my first pregnancy, Mom mourned almost as deeply as Marcus and I did. She was devastated. There are 13 children between my mother and her three sisters, and not one of them has experienced a pregnancy loss. She never believed for a second that she would not have a grandchild in August.

She never thought for a moment that I would not be a mother right now.

I understand my mother, because we're so much alike. If I told her the truth, she'd read my blog every day, and she would read into my symptoms even more than I do, and her heart would fly up and then fall down during every cycle that we fail to conceive. Even when we finally do conceive, as hard as it's going to be (because I love my mom and I value her input and support), we're not going to tell our parents until the 2nd trimester, when things are statistically more in our favor.

If I ever miscarry again, I don't want to put my mother through it. I don't ever want to hurt her like that again. I just can't. I love her too much.