Vulnerability vs. Suffering in Silence

The topic of vulnerability keeps coming up lately, and I'm intrigued. I recently watched this TED Talk that basically says that human connection, belonging, creativity, and so many things all stem from vulnerability. You have to allow yourself to be seen-- really seen. And I agree. So, here's my step toward that.

I had a miscarriage in September of last year. It was early on in my pregnancy, and not many people knew I was pregnant. I have always been a firm believer in not telling anyone except maybe your sister/mother/one or two closest friends until after the first trimester. However many people you tell means that many people you have to un-tell if anything goes wrong! Yep. You might have to tell people that you had a miscarriage. That's painful. But you know what's worse? Not telling people. Pretending to the rest of the whole world that nothing happened, that your heart wasn't just crushed and your insides sucked out. Taking two days off of work and then going back, plastering on a smile, and continuing on with life. Having a coworker tell you a month later that you're "starting to show" with a knowing smile. That's harder, and it lasts longer.

I had just moved to a new state and pretty much no one in this state knew I was pregnant or that anything had happened. There were a couple who I told out of necessity. And do you know what they did? They watched my daughter, made me dinner, brought me chocolate and flowers, wrote me letters and gave me money for a date night. What about my friends and family who knew what I was going through? They also mailed letters and pictures, made phone calls, listened to and cried with me, made me a treasured stained glass butterfly to help my sorrows fly away (still hanging in my kitchen window). I had this outpouring of love and support from a few people, mostly people who lived far away. Why would I not want more of that? Why would I not want everyone else in my life to at least have an idea of what I was going through? If everyone at work had known what happened, they would have known not to tell me that I look pregnant. If the people I hung out with knew what happened, I wouldn't have had to fight back tears as much. I could have been real and honest. They could have shared their stories with me and given me hope. It would have helped me heal and form deeper, more meaningful relationships with these new friends of mine. We talk about other challenges and losses, but why is this category expected to be kept private?

So here I am now, feeling vulnerable, but thinking it will be worth it.
**I wrote this post a couple weeks ago, but chickened out and didn't publish it. It was supposed to be a way of taking my own advice and announcing my new pregnancy. I decided to wait just a few days...

-I got pregnant last July, and found out about the missed miscarriage (no symptoms, still felt pregnant) in September.
-It took until April for my body to get back to normal, then get pregnant again. This is not normal for me and I spent the last few months freaking out (but not telling anyone!) about not being able to get pregnant.
-I found out yesterday, on my daughter's 3rd birthday, that I've had another missed miscarriage.
-I still feel sick and tired and pregnant, because my body isn't sure what's going on. I'm in a weird state of "unpregnant" for the moment.
-The past year my body and mind have been consumed with pregnancy (being pregnant and nauseous, or depressed about not being pregnant, and repeat) and not talking about it with most of the people I'm with every day. That's silly.

I vote that we stop suffering through these things in silence, and that we share our experiences with each other. If you're pregnant and miserable, tell your friends so they can help or at least sympathize. If something goes wrong, they'll be there for you! If you want to get pregnant and it's all you can think about, talk about it with your friends just like you talk about all other parenting issues! If you're really private and don't like to talk about your problems, fine. But if you are dying for support and commiseration, but feel like the subject is uncomfortable, change that.