Someone asked on my spaghetti sauce post when you should tell people you're Prego. What I told her is really, it's up to her and her husband. What I should have told her is this is the first of many decisions you'll make as a parent where any answer could be the right one, leaving plenty of room for worry and second-guessing. But hey! you've got a good chance of it all ending up OK, too.
The general rule of thumb is to wait until you get past that 12-week or three-month mark, before which you have the greatest chance of miscarrying. That can be a long time to keep a secret in this modern age of ovulation predictors and early response pregnancy tests. Our grandmothers might not have known they were pregnant until they were six or more weeks along. We can know when we're barely four weeks in.
Still, with The Boy, I followed that -- sort of. I'm not good with secrets, so we told my parents and the husband's parents, my sister and some very close friends, like Michelle, right after I got a positive pee stick. (Seriously, right after. I took the test on a weekday night, right after work, and called my husband at work, while he was on deadline, so I could call my mom. I knew he'd be angry if I didn't tell him first.) We managed to keep things quiet down here until after my first trimester, but back in Ohio, our families were spreading the news. My mother-in-law, who is a town councilwoman, announced it on public access television. I'm not joking.
Partly because of those loose lips up north, we barely even tried to wait this time around. Facebook and this blog also factored into our decision. Cousins who had heard from aunts who had heard from our mothers were congratulating us on our public pages, which friends, coworkers and former classmates all could see. I got a congratulatory message from an old friend whose sister had her hair cut and colored by my sister who was so excited to get a new niece or nephew she had to share. Meanwhile, exhausted and queasy, I was having a hard time getting the motivation to write here when everything I wanted to write about might give me away. Or what if someone who knew commented and spilled the beans before I did?! That's no fun.
I'm self-centered. I wanted to be the one to share my news. So I wrote the spaghetti sauce post. And then people knew. I wanted to wait to tell our bosses -- the husband and I work for the same company. But the husband, who's in middle management, didn't want the big bosses to find out through office gossip, so he told them. We ended up telling everyone. And I'm barely 10 weeks along.
For the last week, now that everyone knows, every little twinge in the general vicinity of my uterus has made me fret. If SOMETHING were to happen, I'd have to tell everyone. People would be nice to me. They would feel sorry for me. It would be awful.
But then I imagine how I would be if SOMETHING did happen. I would be miserable. I would want to wallow. I would probably not want to do it in secret. So, maybe it's best everyone knows. And, as the husband, Michelle, my sister, my mother and all the other people with sense around me say, everything's going to be fine.
So, how did you decide when to tell people about your pregnancy? Did someone spill the beans for you?