Finally getting pregnant after one miscarriage and 30 months of trying does not cancel out or somehow negate the pain of those experiences. Even standing in my doctor's office with a sonogram photo after just being reassured that, yes, my baby had a heartbeat, even then I cried for the baby I never got to meet. 

Thinking now about who we want to tell and how we want to tell them, I remember how others' pregnancy announcements landed. My sister-in-law's birth announcement came on the day I started my period after our first month of trying. Now I am embarrassed that I could even be so hopeful and expectant after just one month, but in that moment her happy news felt like an exclamation point on my empty womb. 

We learned of another friend's pregnancy just a month before we got out own first positive pregnancy test. She had been very careful about talking about it because she had had a miscarriage just a few months prior. I thought of her and so many other friends when we learned our baby had died--I was comforted in a small way by the knowledge of how common miscarriage is. There are many of us who have walked through this grief. 

I took a break from Instagram about a year ago because I felt so much guilt and anxiety about what I knew and didn't know about people's lives. I feel like I can enter a social interaction now and ask with sincerity, "Tell me what's been going on!" and not feel the temptation to pretend I know what's been going on since I saw it on the socials. 

I also feel that I can share the happy things and the sad things with more trust. It is lovely to receive affirmation and encouragement from strangers and acquaintances. But something like a pregnancy announcement, I know from my own reactions how fraught it can be. As much joy as I felt for my friends, I felt an equal proportion of sadness, loss, and maybe a little envy. And as much encouragement as I received from hearing my friends' struggles with fertility, I am not sure I have sufficiently processed my sadness to share such personal information for mass consumption. 

The people who love me can hold their happiness for my happiness in tension with their own complicated feelings on this topic. The people who love me can suspend judgment about my journey and engage with my dual grief and joy. The people who love me want to know these Big Life Updates. And I am so thankful to have people in my life who readily carry that mantle for me; I hope I can do the same for them.